


Fiducia

by starseeker95



Series: A Ruler and His Scientist [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, False Spike, Gentle Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Throat Bulge, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-21 18:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 30,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starseeker95/pseuds/starseeker95
Summary: Starscream goes into heat. Already suspicious of everyone, Starscream refuses to have anything to do with interfacing due to the traumas he suffered during the war. The seeker would rather die than ever be touched again... until a certain scientist shows him how to trust.





	1. Chapter 1

“Starscream? Sir?”

Windblade’s voice cut through the fog shrouding the seeker’s processor. Fixing his face into one of bored contemplation, Starscream looked up from his datapad. “I’m busy, Windblade.”

The Camien glared from her place by the door, but Starscream caught the downward cant of her wings all the same. Submission isn’t like you, the seeker mused, rapping his fingers against the desk. He felt a twinge of satisfaction at her discomfort and kicked out his legs, leaning back in a show of relaxed confidence.

Windblade stepped forward into the office, inclining her chin and looking down at him. “I have progress updates if you have a moment.” She conjured her own datapad out of seemingly nowhere, balancing it in her hands as she took a seat across from him.

It had been a long day. Rattrap had been the usual nuisance, interjecting every thought that the seeker had with his unwanted input, likely trying to sabotage Starscream someway or another. The complaints concerning, well, everything, had been non-stop and it seemed that every single thing was somehow directly Starscream’s fault. Coupled with Windblade constantly plotting against him (he swore that he’d catch her in the act eventually), the day had gone down hill fast. And to top it all off, Wheeljack, the only mech that Starscream even considered trusting, had been conveniently absent. 

The seeker snarled under his breath. He didn’t need them. If he had to do it alone, he would restore Cybertron to its original glory. He, Lord Starscream, would lead them, even if he had to drag them all kicking and screaming-

Something tightened deep in the flyer’s chassis, coiling hot and sitting low in his frame. The feeling immediately threw him off guard. The intensity felt as if he’d been dealt a physical blow-

“Starscream?”

The seeker in question refocused his optics to glare at her. “What? I’m listening, for frag’s sake-“

“Your field- it’s-“

With a jolt, Starscream ripped his field back in and away from her. The strange feeling had distracted him just long enough for him to let it get away from his usually strict hold. As he reeled himself back in and attempted to reschool his features, Starscream felt the boiling heat at his core leap high unexpectedly. He barely suppressed a gasp as his spark seemed to hiccup in his chest. What was going on? 

He caught sight of Windblade who was beginning to lean towards him from across the desk. Her optics were strangely glassy, derma slightly parted as she stared at him. Why was she acting so strangely? Another thought followed on the heels of the first. Had she poisoned him, somehow?

Starscream ticked off possibilities, processor spinning. He hadn’t accepted any energon from anyone, in fact, he hadn’t had much of an appetite all day. No one had handed him anything directly all day so that eliminated poisoning by touch. Maybe it was a slow working poison? 

As Starscream’s panic began rising, Windblade slowly stood from her seat. The sleek-bodied femme planted her hands on the desk, standing to lean toward him. Her vents fluttered slightly as she inhaled and pressed closer, trying to brush her field against his. Starscream startled from his thoughts just long enough to hiss as her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Windblade’s body froze and she blinked, optics slowly clearing from their glazed state. “I- what?”

Starscream swallowed thickly, struggling to calm his writhing spark as he spoke. “I said, ‘What do you think you’re doing?’” By that time, the red seeker had leaned back and away from her, digits tightening on the arm rests of his chair.

The cityspeaker shook her helm violently as if trying to jostle her processor. “You- I- what’s wrong with you, Starscream?”

“A better question for you!” Starscream spat at her as he scrambled to his feet, trying to keep up a confident front. Really, he was beginning to panic. What was happening? His spark did another flip before tight knot shot downward again, lower than where it had before-

Windblade ran her glossa over her lipsplates, optics fixated on Starscream’s wings. While the seeker had been controlling his field with a stranglehold, his wings had unconsciously begun to dance. To his horror, the motions of his wings confirmed his fears. 

The appendages had begun to flutter softy, mimicking a dance known to all flight frames. The broad expanses flexed wide and tensed, glorious in their display as they quivered delicately. The moment that Starscream understood what was happening, he wrenched his wings downward, forcing them to be still. But it was too late. 

A light blush covered Windblade’s cheeks as she recognized the display.

The images of Thundercracker and Skywarp flashed briefly through Starscream’s processor but he just as quickly banished them away. His trine was gone, he didn’t need to be reminded of the past. The tight heat continued to settle lower and lower, paving a trail of blazing hunger down through the core of his frame.

Windblade’s optics were clear as she spoke. “Starscream, I- I’m sorry, it’s just that- you, uh-“ She put her hands up in surrender, blush growing

Another memory intruded as Starscream sidestepped around his chair, backing away from Windblade toward the wall. The vision came unannounced, catching him by surprise with its clarity. Starscream was swept up remembering the events of his last heat cycle.

***

He was pinned against the wall, peds barely brushing the floor as he thrashed.

“YOU’RE A DISTRACTION!”

The voice, all too familiar, rang through his audials as a hand tore mercilessly through the thin metal of his left wing. Starscream choked back a wail as his panel was torn away by hooked claws.

The mech’s optics, red and narrowed, viciously pinned Starscream to the unyielding wall. The seeker suppressed his trembling the best that he could and tried to cover his bared array with his hands. “You fool! If you’d let me see my trine-“

Starscream felt himself violently thrown to the floor, face slamming into the concrete. Megatron’s large hand covered the back of his helm and smashed the smaller mech’s face down again when he tried to get up. “YOU KNOW YOUR PUNISHMENT, STARSCREAM!”

Ah, yes. His punishment. He was separated from his trine mates until further notice following a group effort, lead by himself, to permanently offline their illustrious leader. Again.

But stress had activated the heat early. It was a survival mechanism, deeply encoded within flight frames. Following his separation from his trine, Starscream had found himself unable to continually strengthen their bond. This stress on his spark activated old coding originally meant to help ensure the survival of the flight frame race. Now, according to Megatron, it was a “distraction.” Without satisfying the coding, the seeker’s chassis and spark could suffer irreparable damage-

Starscream thrashed violently, spitting out grit as he labored to ventilate. The heat increased as cool air caressed his bared valve and spike, serving as a warning that the coding would only worsen the longer it remained unattended to. Starscream, aware of this, allowed himself to beg. “Lord Megatron, please! Thundercracker and Skywarp can help me- it’ll stop-“

Starscream felt his helm wrenched upward violently. Megatron’s optics bored into his own, a smile quirking his lips. The smaller mech could no longer keep the desperation out of his field as the hot feeling of his own plating bordered on painful. He felt he might catch fire-

The warlord grinned at him, running his glossa across bared denta. “Oh, Starscream. Always so clever. I know that you don’t need your trine in order to satisfy the coding. Any transfluid will do.”

Megatron’s words took a moment too long to register. When they did, Starscream lost the ability to control his body and field. Horror reflected off both of them as Starscream shook in fear. The thought of being pressed into the floor by the larger mech, of being filled again and again against his will-

Megatron laughed as Starscream’s revulsion shown plainly on his face. “Ah, my treacherous, little second. You misunderstand. You think I’d stoop so low myself as to be the donator? I’m sure that your leadership skills have made you many friends of lower rank, hm?”

Within moments, the weight of the hand against the back of his helm vanished. Before, Starscream could take a relieved breath, he was hosted up by a single wing. Megatron easily carried him that way, holding the struggling mech out and away from himself as if the seeker were something nasty and not to be touched. By the time Starscream had digested Megatron’s meaning, Megatron was halfway down the hall, aiming for one of the more popular common areas-

***

The memory itself was barely a flash in Starscream’s processor. By the time he’d managed to cut it off, he was pushing off of the wall and launching himself at Windblade, talons extended. The Camien, caught off guard, dropped straight to the floor, throwing up her hands to avoid the slashing digits. The seeker’s voice was twisted with terror and rage as he screeched. “DON’T TOUCH ME!”

***-his valve was bared, glowing alluringly- his body betraying him-***

Windblade kicked upward just in time for her peds to hit Starscream’s waist. As a result, Starscream was effectively thrown over her, landing in a heap just inside of the open office door. The seeker’s claws were still flailing, searching for any target that found itself too close.

***-the room was full- he couldn’t count- couldn’t cover it up-***

Rattrap appeared in the doorway, optics wide at the sight that greeted him. Starscream, the ruler of all Cybertron, appeared to be trying to tear of Windblade of Caminus’s face. An unholy noise erupted from Starscream’s vocalizer as his field whipped violently outward and lashed at Rattrap with almost physical force. Panic, arousal, so much fear-

Before the stunned mech could react, Chromia shouldered past him. She’d been told to wait down the hall while Windblade delivered the updates. When the first audial-splitting shriek had sounded, Chromia had dropped the datapad she’d been reviewing, abandoning it to shatter underfoot as she bolted toward the commotion.

Starscream managed to regain his footing as he spotted Chromia and Rattrap. A fresh wave of terror in his field forced Chromia to a dead stop. Starscream was afraid? What could Wildblade have possibly told him that would-

Without a word, the slender red mech vaulted past her and out into the hall. Within moments, the only evidence of the ordeal was the stunned form of Windblade still seated on the floor. The cityspeaker’s blue optics were wide as Chromia moved to help her up. The femme bodyguard looked back toward the hall where Starscream had disappeared. “What is Primus’ name-“

Rattrap interrupted, optics slightly unfocused. “Did you- his field- ?”

Chromia glared at him as she checked Windblade’s plating for damage. “Yeah, he was terrified. What happened?” She never dreamed she’d see the day that Starscream was anything but dignified and sarcastic and a complete aft.

When Chromia looked to Windblade to ask what had been said, she found Windblade looking at Rattrap and nodding. “Yeah, but I can’t be sure. If it’s what I think it is-“ Windblade glanced down the hallway where Starscream had disappeared. Chromia was stunned anew to see concern on the other femme’s face. “If it’s what I think it is, he may be in serious trouble.”


	2. Chapter 2

“It ain’t gonna blow up.”

“Okay, but how to you know?”

Wheeljack sighed heavily before glancing sideways at Fireflight. The other bot was fixated on the concoction before them, eyeing the vial still pinched in Wheeljack’s fingers. Wheeljack reminded himself that Fireflight’s anxiety was well deserved; afterall, it was true. Wheeljack’s experiments didn’t tend to end in a non-explosive way.

“Just… trust me on this, alright?”

Firelfight nodded, but very obviously leaned back and away. Though the younger mech might be too cautious (at least by Wheeljack’s standards), the jet showed promise as a scientist. Wheeljack couldn’t help but muse over how much things had changed compared to before the war. Back then, the sensitive little jet wouldn’t have stood a chance of getting into the academy for science. Now, Fireflight and others enjoyed choices that many weren’t granted before. 

Wheeljack had just begun to tip the vial in his fingers toward the beaker when a crash sounded I the hallway outside of the lab. Jumping, the scientist barely avoided dropping the entire vial into the mixture. “What in the Pit-“

Wheeljack passed off the vial to a less than thrilled Fireflight and made his way to the door. What he found on the other side was the last thing that he expected. Or perhaps one of the last things. He found it hard to be surprised anymore.

A flash of red streaked down the hallway. Wheeljack barely registered that the blurred form was Starscream in his altmode before the jet vanished further down the hallway. The scientist continued to stare even when only smoke and the smell of burnt fuel was left in the hall. 

Fireflight peaked out from behind, shock painting his aristocratic features. “Was that Lord Starscream? In his alt?”

Instead of answering, Wheeljack was distracted by a comm. Flicking his attention to his HUD, he saw that Windblade was trying to contact him. Quickly and without taking his optics from where Starscream had disappeared, the speedster opened the comm.

:Have you seen Starscream?:

Snorting behind his battle mask, Wheeljack replied. :You mean the red blur that just passed my lab? What happened? Looked like he saw a ghost. That or worse by the looks of it.:

While he waited for a reply, the mustang quickly turned to Fireflight. “I’m going after him and probably won’t be back for awhile. Till I know what’s goin’ on, don’t go around tellin’ anyone what you saw. It’s bad enough as it is.”

Fireflight nodded, brow creased. He moved in the opposite direction as Wheeljack turned to walk quickly in the direction that Starscream had gone. Wryly, he wondered which of the femmes had put Starscream in such a state of panic. Breaking the seeker’s carefully constructed façade was no easy feat though he himself had   
come close more than once. 

He enjoyed surprising the handsome mech. While Starscream’s face was always a careful mask of insolence, the mech seemed to have no idea as to just how much his wings emoted. Though no flight frame himself, Wheeljack had learned how to read flyer wings the way many read datapads. While the speedster’s face remained carefully hidden behind his own battlemask, he had learned to read Starscream’s slightest changes in mood based on his wings.

Another comm. from Windblade confused him further rather than answered any of his questions. :He might be in trouble. I think I know what it is.:

:Well, are yuh gonna tell me, then?:

Wheeljack rounded two more corners, following the scorch marks on the walls, when Windblade sent another comm.:It’s his heat coding. It’s complicated.:

Wheeljack stopped in his tracks at that revelation, optic tracking one of the scorch mark left on the wall by Starscream’s thrusters in the jets mad flight.  
:How is it complicated? All bots have heats, nothin’ new.:

In the next comm. from Windblade, Wheeljack could practically hear the exasperated sigh in her tone. :He’s a seeker, Wheeljack. They have trines for times like this. Starscream doesn’t.:

Wheeljack began to stride forward again, seeing the end of the hallway ahead. He knew Starscream had a trine before and then during the war. Many of those who didn’t know about trines and the forming of them simply saw them as frivolities and remnants of worn out tradition. Wheeljack knew of the spark bond that trines shared and just how important being a member of trine was to the health of seekers. But what did that bond have to do with heat cycles? :So he’ll wait it out. It won’t be fun, but it’s his choice.:

Many mechs and femmes abstained from interfacing during their heats. Wheeljack hadn’t been one of them, but he knew of some who were. Their reasons were their own and Wheeljack didn’t judge them for it. The period wasn’t fun to endure, but it was possible.

Wheeljack saw that the door at the end of the hallway was closed, marking an end to the scorch marks along the walls. As Wheeljack had suspected, the door was locked down tight when he tried to open it. Another comm. from Windblade. :Don’t you get it? It’s a survival mechanism. If I’m right-:

Wheeljack pressed an audial to the door, unable to detect any movement on the other side at first.

:-this is very dangerous-:

A soft, pained moan came from the other side of the door, barely audible. Wheeljack pulled away, disbelieving of what he was hearing. Heats didn’t hurt, at least not for him. They were unpleasant sure, but he’d never been in pain. He continued to read through Windblade’s comm.

:-their coding is different than grounder coding. He can’t just ignore this, Wheeljack.:

Another gasp sounded from the other side of the door along with a dull thud.

:His coding requires him to interface. If he doesn’t, he could face some serious damage. Worst case-:

Wheeljack pressed his audial to the door in time to hear another pain groan on the other side.

:-without help, he could offline permanently.:

 

Bumblebee paced back and forth through the small storage space. “Starscream you need help. At least see a medic. Maybe they could-“

“No.” Couldn’t the pest leave him in peace for a just a little while? 

“But what if you-“

“I said no!” Didn’t he understand? The mere thought of interfacing, of being touched by another bot in such a way, sent shivers of revulsion through Starscream’s frame. He suppressed the memory of his last heat again and gulped air through his vents.

The yellow bot stopped just in front of where Starscream had curled inward on himself on the floor. With his knees tucked up to his chin and his arms clasped around them, Starscream refused to consider the thought that he might be cowering. Even if he was, who was there to be embarrassed by? It wasn’t like Bumblebee was real-

The seeker groaned aloud as another bolt of heat arched through his plating. He shouldn’t have gotten so hot so fast. Usually, it was more gradual, giving him time to reach the safe and caring protection of his trine before the heat took hold fully. Yet somehow it had progressed within hours, rapidly setting his protoform ablaze. The paint on some of his plating was bubbling at the edges, separating in painful blisters from his armor. Starscream felt overly loose and clumsy as the increasing temperature relaxed his taut cables by force. He was vaguely happy that he’d collapsed against the wall the moment that the door had closed and locked behind him.

Starscream knew that the rest of them would find him. His mad dash through the halls had surely left an unmistakable trail to his hiding place. His spark pounded at the prospect of Chromia or even Rattrap forcing in the door, hunger in their optics and in their fields. They would hunt him down in his weakened state and they would take him just like Megatron let them do last time-

“Starscream-“

-maybe he would die before they found him. That would be a mercy, he supposed. He imagined them finding his cold chassis, his spark having guttered out- 

“-no, listen to me, Sta-“

-we couldn’t go through it again. He would rather die than be passed around- 

“STARSCREAM!”

The flyer instinctively shrank back from the shouting voice. Bumblebee was leaning over him, concern coloring his usually clear optics. Starscream glared at him and resisted the urge to push Bumblebee away when he remembered that Bumblebee wasn’t real. 

The little yellow bot knelt before him as he spoke. “Starscream, listen. I don’t know what happened, but I can guess. You aren’t there anymore. Megatron can’t ever hurt you again. Right now, you’re hurting yourself by not getting help.”

Bumblebee moved to continue talking when a third voice, muffled by the door, came from the hallway. “Starscream?”

The red mech wrenched his neck as he turned, wide-eyed, to stare at the still-closed door. They’d found him faster than he’d thought they would. 

“Starscream, it’s me. Wheeljack. You, uh- you okay?”

Even in his terrified state, Starscream had to suppress a laugh. “Like you care, Autobot! I know why you’re here!”

A pause came from the other side of the door before Wheeljack’s voice came through again. “Windblade said you were upset. Mind telling me what’s got you so ralled up?”

This time, Starscream laughed aloud, a scratching, painful sound that sounded just as dry as his throat felt. “Don’t act like you don’t know! You’re here to ‘help’ me of course. Isn’t that what they want to do? I’m sure the lot of them would just love-“

“Starscream, we do want to help you. In any way that we can.”

Wheeljack’s voice was so gentle and free of malice that Starscream almost let his guard down a little. The seeker rested back against the wall, arms falling to his sides and resting on the floor. “I don’t need help. No one can help me and- and I don’t want it.”

“Starscream-“

“NO!”

Silence stretched from the other side of the door and Starscream entertained the thought that maybe Wheeljack and left him to die in peace. What a way to go. To survive a 4-million-year war and die of a heat-

“What about a medic? There has to be a way to stop this or to at least deaden it some?”

Starscream briefly considered the scientist’s words. Pain dampeners would be a nice relief. Just the thought of fresh coolant almost had Starscream reaching for the door panel. At the last moment, the seeker snatched his hand back to himself. It had to be a trick, a way to get him to open the door. Starscream blinked his optics, fighting to stay focused. No, he wouldn’t open the door.

“Let him in, he isn’t going to hurt you.” 

Starscream turned his helm back to where Bumblebee still crouched across from him. The mirage or ghost or whatever Bumblebee was looked even more real than usual. The heat must’ve been playing tricks on his optics. The seeker swallowed heavily, trying to moisten his raw intact before he spoke. “And let them have their way with me? I’ll die first.”

“Starscream, it’s Wheeljack. He’s the only one you’d ever consider as a friend, right? Do you think he would-“

“No, he wouldn’t-“

“You’re right, he wouldn’t. And you might despise Windblade, but she and Chromia wouldn’t hurt you.” The former Autobot studied him for a long moment. “What happened to you?”

Wheeljack’s voice came from beyond the door again in a deep, calming drawl. “Starscream, Windblade says you- um- you need to satisfy the coding or- well, she says it’s dangerous if you don’t. Is that true?”

The minibot leaned forward as Wheeljack spoke. “He wouldn’t hurt you. I don’t know why you’re so upset and I won’t ask-“

“You’re in my fragging helm! You’re not real! You know what happened!”

Starscream abruptly realized that he’d been yelling. As far as Wheeljack knew, Starscream was alone in the storage area. When the red mech moved to glare at Bumblebee, he found that the yellow scout had vanished. Of course he had.

“Um, Starscream?” Confusion colored the voice of the bot on the other side of the door. He’d definitely heard Starscream’s short rant. “Listen, I need to know if you need a medic. If I get one, will you see him?”

Starscream cast a weary glance around the small storage area. It was mostly empty, void of anything soft he could rest on. If he was going to die, he at least wanted to be comfortable. He sighed heavily as he carefully maneuvered himself lower against the wall. His wings jittered against it, sending sensations of agitated arousal straight to his convulsing valve. Unable to stand the blaze behind his panel any longer and convinced that the door was secured, Starscream relaxed the vice-like hold he’d used to keep his acing panel shut.

The moment that he did, his panel snapped back. Immediately, Starscream felt the release and telltale splash as some build up lubricant washed to the floor under his aft. Before he could stop it, a guttural moan erupted from low in his chassis as the cooler air of the room caressed his swollen, irritated valve lips.

Resting his helm back against the wall and feeling the short-lived relief, Starscream muttered a reply to Wheeljack. “There’s nothing to stop it that a medic could give. Just go- go away.”

“Starscream, is Windblade right? Could you offline because of this?”

Starjack forced his vocalizer to reboot. The inferno raging in his chest and interface array was making things spin around him. Why should he hide the truth? Rattrap and Windblade were likely celebrating his demise at that moment. Perhaps having Wheeljack to talk to until- until he- “Yes. Yes it’s true.”

“Starscream what did you mean that I knew what happened?”

Starscream silently cursed Bumblebee. “Nothing, I was- I was-“

Well, what was he talking about? Unable to come up with a story, Starscream defaulted to sarcasm. “It doesn’t matter does it? You’re not here to talk. I know why you’re here.”

A heavy sigh came from the other side of the door. “Really? Why am I here then, Star?”

“Don’t play with me right now! You know what’s going on and you just want to- to-“

***  
Megatron had dropped him on the floor in the center of the room. At first no one moved. These were lower ranking bots, most of them who Starscream had only seen in passing. No flight frames that he could see from his position on the floor.  
The seeker flinched as Megatron’s voice boomed above him. “It seems that my second-in-command has a bit of a problem. I thought perhaps you all might be keen on helping him with it. After all,” Megatron glared down at Starscream as the smaller mech was surrounded by the room’s occupants. “My second does enjoy a good teamwork exercise, don’t you?”  
***

Wheeljack’s voice interrupted the memory. “Seriously, Star? I’m here to help you. Whether that means getting a medic or- or that, I guess.”

Starscream’s optics burnt and he snarled in frustration. Why was he so weak? It was just interfacing-

Interfacing. That’s what it had been called. That’s what those mechs had done to him as they tore his wings to shreds, unaware of how sensitive seeker wings truly were. Interfacing had been them terrorizing him in that room, playing with his frame and using him for their pleasure when he couldn’t fight back. Interfacing had been their laughter as his energon pooled on the floor, as he begged for them to stop.

“No, no, no-“

“Okay, okay. Okay, Starscream. Calm down and don’t make it worse. I’ll think of something.”


	3. Chapter 3

“This better be important.”

“I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t.” Wheeljack continued fidgeting with some of the half-completed projects on his workbench. He could feel the infamous gaze of a certain medic scrutinizing him from the screen. Upon assuring Starscream that he’d soon be back, Wheeljack had retreated to his lab. Once there, he’d only paused a moment before opening a long-distant communication with the Lost Light.

Now, Ratchet was glared him down from the screen, clearly unhappy about being interrupted. “Well, what is it? There was an incident at Swerve’s last night and I have to-“

“It’s Starscream.”

The medic barely paused. “And why is this my problem? Did you forget that there are perfectly good medics on Cybertron? Or do they simply refuse-“

Wheeljack sighed and twiddled one of his tools between his fingers. Maybe he should’ve called with Windblade. Upon leaving Starscream, Wheeljack had commed Windblade and Rattrap. He’d told them about Starscream refusing treatment and that the only thing the pair of them could do was damage control until further notice. Starscream’s panicked flight hadn’t gone unnoticed by several other bots in the halls at the time. While Wheeljack wasn’t confident in Rattrap’s motives or work ethic, he knew that Windblade was capable of handling things for now. At least until Starscream was back to his normal, intolerable self.

That left Wheeljack to help the seeker. It was very unlike Starscream to just give up on fixing something. For all of his faults, the flyer was hard to kill. Megatron, Optimus Prime and many others had tried on several occasions. For Starscream to simply surrender to something as simple as a heat worried Wheeljack more than he let on.

When Ratchet finally paused to draw a vent, Wheeljack interrupted. “It’s his heat code, Ratchet. He’s not good.”

“Oh. I see.” The medic rubbed a hand down his face as he thought. “When did it start?”

“Just a few hours ago. He won’t see a medic and I don’t know what to do.”

“So… he won’t interface?”

Wheeljack frowned behind his battle mask even though he knew the medic couldn’t see it. “No. He’s locked himself in a storage closet. From what Windblade saw, he’s terrified out of his processor at the thought of interfacing. I tried talking to him, but he’s given up already without even tryin’.”

The CMO blinked quickly, finally stopping whatever he’d been previously doing. Wheeljack watched the medic mutter something along the lines of “fragging Pit” under his breath before fixing Wheeljack with a look. “Does he have anyone that he would even let close? If he won’t even let a medic dampen his sensors, then he’ll need help from someone he can trust.”

Wheeljack hesitated. “I’m the only one he talks with outside of business so I guess that’s me, ain’t it? I offered to ‘face with him, but he got so upset. I don’t know how to help him so I called you.” The scientist looked down, unable to meet Ratchet’s intense gaze. “Something bad happened to him, Ratch. He started to tell me and panicked.”

Ratchet shifted on the screen, redrawing Wheeljack’s attention. The medic’s chevron was drawn low over his optics in thought. “So interfacing is out. Who knows what kind of trauma he went through in the Decepticon ranks. Is this the first heat he’s had since the start of peace time?”

“Far as I know, yeah.”

Ratchet nodded. “We may have to get creative. There’s no way to stall flight frame coding. Seekers have trines for many reasons, but heat cycles are probably the most important to their survival. I’ve… been told about how the Decepticons handled heat cycles within their ranks.” Ratchet shook his helm, a genuine look of pity on his usually scowling face. “It was treated as a distraction. Those in heat were dealt with as quickly as possible to ensure that all focus was on the war effort.”

Wheeljack’s mouth had dropped open as Ratchet spoke. If what Ratchet suspected was true, then it was no wonder that Starscream was terrified of interfacing. The poor mech had been suffering and hiding his trauma among them and none of them had known. Part of Wheeljack chastised himself for not being more observant when it came to Starscream’s berth habits. No wonder the seeker stayed in his office late into the night. He likely hadn’t interfaced in the centuries since his last heat-

“We can’t force him, Ratchet. But he needs to satisfy the coding, right?” The medic nodded, optic fixated on the speedster as he continued. “The coding would be satisfied if his valve and gestation tank are coated with-“

“Repeatedly.” Wheeljack paused and looked up in surprise at the nodding medic. Ratchet went on. “The average seeker heat usually lasts through several overloads on the part of both partners. It often would take about a mega-cycle to satisfy it completely. But it sound like Starscream’s heat has an elevated intensity, probably caused by his refusal to interface since his last heat. If he doesn’t interface within the next few cycles…”

“We can’t put him through that. There has to be another way.”

Ratchet narrowed his optics in thought. “I think I might have an idea.” The older mech met Wheeljack’s determined gaze. “It won’t be easy on him, but he won’t have to interface.”

Within an Earth hour of starting the comm. with Ratchet, Wheeljack was looking down at a slender object made of metal and pliant rubber. Wheeljack had taken a syringe about the size of his finger and dipped it into some gel that Ratchet had instructed him in mixing. In the end, Ratchet had called in Perceptor to join in the conversation, briefly updating the stoic sniper to the situation. The gel-like, rubbery substance was suggested by Perceptor who told Wheeljack that it would dry to feel like rubber coating on the outside of the syringe. As the object dried and the gel solidified, Wheeljack could’ve mistaken the instrument as some kind of crude, homemade false spike.

Upon finishing the syringe, Perceptor had instructed Wheeljack on how to manufacture a fluid that would mimic transfuild. As the scientist carefully followed the instructions to make the “faux-fluid,” Wheeljack couldn’t help but wonder when Perceptor had felt the need to create such a thing.  
Perceptor went on to explain that the mixture was a substitute for real transfuild and that it would trick the valve and gestation tank into thinking Starscream had actually interfaced. Wheeljack swirled the beaker at eye level and watched as it began to settle, thick and opaque. If Wheeljack hadn’t made it himself in the beaker, he would’ve thought it was the real thing.  
After finally closing the comm. with the medic and the other scientist, Wheeljack subspaced the syringe and the fluid and took off toward the closet where he’d left Starscream.

 

He was alone with it.  
The memory kept coming back as his valve pulsed in sync with his spark. The seeker felt like purging, but was too weak to lean forward. Instead, he focused on his memories of Thundercracker and Skywarp…

Thundercracker, field calm as ever, would situate himself behind Starscream between his wings and the wall. Starscream could remember the way Thundercracker’s warm hands would gently trace his aching wings, careful in his soothing strokes. The blue seeker would whisper soft words in his trine leader’s audial to help ease away the stress that the heat cycle caused on seeker frames.

At the same time, Skywarp would give his leader a characteristic smirk and lift Starscreams peds to rest on either side of his helm. Starscream could almost see his trinemate dipping his helm to inhale the sweet heat phermones emitted by the valve presented to him. The purple seeker would lave Starscream’s tender valve with his glossia, slipping between his warm folds with ease, bringing the sweetest cries from his trine leader’s lips-

They would protect him through the heat, just as he would protect either of them in theirs. They would cater his every need until the heat abated. They were a trine, a unit designed to have full trust in one another. Together, they were safe and happy and-  
They’d left him. Starscream had been left alone again, beaten and used up by Megatron. The red seeker forced away another feeling of despair as pain vibrated through him. What did it matter anyway? It would all be over soon. Soon, his spark would flicker and fade out. The thought brought the seeker a feeling of peace, even as his body tried to burn itself from the inside out.

Starscream’s fans, which had been running full blast since he’d transformed back into his root mode, made an odd jolting sound. Starscream felt searing pain as one of the fans began to knock. Momentarily stunned by the fresh wave of agony, Starscream cried out. It was a brittle sound, wrenched from his throat, a throat that had gone dry in the heat that wracked his slender frame.

Just then, the voice Starscream had been waiting for returned at the door. “Starscream?! I’m back. I heard you, please open up-“  


Struggling to control the pain, Starscream began to mouth pant, glossa peeking out from between his parted lipplates. “I can’t,” he breathed, struggling to stay upright against the wall.

He was too tired to feel fear. If Wheeljack took him, it would end. The pain would stop and some small part of Starscream’s processor knew that Wheeljack would be gentle. But just the thought of being spiked-

Starscream’s frame jerked violently and he barely turned to the side in time to purge what little he had in his tanks. Half-processed energon splattered on the floor between his hands. Embarrassment flickered through him, paired with self-disgust.

“Starscream? I have something that might help.”  


The seeker blinked slowly, staring down at the stinking puddle on the floor. His valve seeped lubricant and it trailed unimpeded down his thighs due to his position. Wheeljack wouldn’t tear him up too bad at least. If it was going to happen, Starscream would've chosen the scientist. May as well get it over with. “Are- are you alone?”

Starscream definitely sounded much worse. Wheeljack resisted the urge to pound on the door and demand to be led in. “Yes, no one else is here. Just me. I have something that might-“  


A loud beeping interrupted him as the door to the storage closet popped open. After a moment to recover himself, Wheeljack stepped inside. At first he didn’t see anything inside the dimly lit space.  


Then he saw Starscream.  


Starscream was on his hands and knees facing the door, hovering over what looked to be a puddle of half-processed energon. The seeker’s paint was bubbled from the heat emanating off of his frame. His field was wide open, saturated in a mix of pain, arousal and terror. Usually bright red optics regarded his arrival into the room with dim interest, almost as if the distressed mech were already shielding his processor from what he thought was coming. The smell of lubricant registered to the scientist next and he realized abruptly that the red mech’s valve was bare and leaking copiously onto the floor between Starscream’s legs.  


Starscream managed a weak groan as Wheeljack slowly stepped forward, hands displayed with his palms out. The scientist paused momentarily at the sound. “Shh, it’s okay, Star. I’m gonna help you. You’re safe, I promise.  


Before he knew what was happening, the scientist watched in horror as the seeker’s elbow joints gave out. Starscream collapsed face-first into his own purge. His biolights flared brightly, once, before going completely out.


	4. Chapter 4

In two strides, Wheeljack was at the crumpled seeker’s side. Careful to avoid pinching Starscream’s wings, the scientist carefully maneuvered the other mech onto his back. Starscream’s didn’t react to being moved, his helm lolling listlessly against Wheeljack’s arm. A bolt of panic shot through Wheeljack. “Star? Starscream, can you hear me?”

A moment after lifting the limp mech into his arms, Wheeljack registered the intensity of the heat emanating from Starscream’s frame. Just touching his plating proved too much, forcing Wheeljack to rest the seeker back onto the floor. The scientist frantically dug into his subspace, rooting around desperately for the syringe and engineered transfluid. He’d just managed to wrap shaking fingers around both when movement from the floor in front of him caught his attention.

Starscream’s biolights crackled and relit as the seeker’s chassis sizzled with heat. Wheeljack abruptly realized that Starscream’s fans had given out. At this rate, Wheeljack hurriedly calculated, the fine wiring and soft components of Starscream’s frame would likely melt beyond Wheeljack’s or any medic’s ability to repair.  
With trembling fingers, Wheeljack filled the syringe. Without his fans to fend off the worst of the heat, Starscream didn’t have much time-

“Please- please-“

Wheeljack felt his optics widen in shock as he looked away from the syringe to find Starscream’s optics fixed on him. The red orbs were flickering slightly and clouded over as the seeker struggled to focus on the scientist. Those optics had an unguarded quality that Wheeljack had never seen in Starscream, something that the flyer would likely never let anyone else see.

When Wheeljack moved to step away, Starscream’s field reached to follow him, tinged with desperation and something that Wheeljack couldn’t name. The seeker weakly swiped at Wheeljack’s ped. “Don’t leave- please-“

Confused, the scientist bent over Starscream again, reaching into his subspace as he did. The downed mech watched as Wheeljack retrieved one of his cleaner lab rags. Slowly so as not to startle the already distressed seeker, Wheeljack wiped the worst of the purge from Starscream’s face. “I’m not going anywhere. I have something that might help you some.”

Starscream’s field flared with fear for a moment before calming itself. Wheeljack then recognized what he couldn’t name earlier. Perhaps it was because he never expected to feel it from Starscream of all bots. As Wheeljack moved further down Starscream’s frame toward his legs, he realized that the mech’s field was filled with hopeless acceptance.

Wheeljack was again confused momentarily before putting two and two together. Starscream had accepted that Wheeljack was going to interface with him whether he consented or not. The knowledge that Starscream thought Wheeljack would hurt him literally set the scientist back onto his aft with a thud. The further thought that Starscream had still let him into the closet under that presumption had Wheeljack’s intake tightening.

The scientist rolled back onto his knees and maneuvered so he could look Starscream in the optic. The flight frame was staring blankly at the ceiling, panting through his mouth. “Star, look at me.” Slowly, the seeker dragged his gaze from it’s far off state to look at Wheeljack. The scientist waited a moment before continuing. “I’m not gonna interface with you. I told you I’d think of something else and I did.”

A flicker of the Starscream he knew came back as the red mech narrowed a look at him. The next wave of unrelenting fire coursed through his lines and the moment of clarity was gone. Starscream shook his helm in agitation. “W-why? I don’t-“

Without thinking, Wheeljack took ahold of Starscream’s fidgeting hand. “You don’t have to tell me anything. I won’t ask. I told you I’d find a way to help you.” Wheeljack lifted the false spike he’d made into Starscream’s view. The seeker regarded the object, blinking as he tried to study it. Wheeljack compressed the syringe slightly, making some of the “faux-fluid” bead at the tip and trail lazily down the side. “This should satisfy you’re coding after using it a few times. I got the idea from Ratchet and Perceptor.”

Starcsream’s gaze flicked from the syringe to Wheeljack. “You- told them?”  
Wheeljack gave Starscream’s shaking frame a top to bottom survey. “I was out of ideas so I commed the Lost Light. Ratchet swore medical confidentiality and Perceptor… I can’t imagine he’d tell anyone or even care to.”

Starscream opened his intake to reply as a violent spasm rocked his frame. Wheeljack watched as his biolights blinked again, threatening to go out. The scientist still held onto Starscream’s fingers as the sleek mech’s body tensed and arched upward, fighting a losing battle against the inferno raging under his armor.

When the violent seizing had subsided slightly, Starscream rolled his helm toward Wheeljack once more. Horror froze the former Autobot in place as he caught sight of Starscream’s face. 

Smoke curled from between Starscream’s parted lip plates. The seeker’s optics refused to light in a last effort to preserve the delicate wiring behind them from further heat damage. Starscream, finding himself blind, blinked rapidly, gasping through his smoking intake. The seeker’s mouth was moving as he struggled unsuccessfully to reboot his shorted vocalizer.

Wheeljack moved quickly down toward Starscream’s legs, slipping himself between them. Balancing himself in a crouch with a hand on Starscream’s knee, Wheeljack got his first good look at the seeker’s valve.

The first thought that went through his processor was how inviting it looked. Unlike the rest of Starscream’s wrecked frame, the valve itself pulsed softly, as if it were putting on a show for him. Wheeljack watched, trying to swallow as the valve lips tightened down repeatedly on nothing, begging to be stretched by a spike. Inside, Wheeljack could see rows of sensitive nodes and biolights, pulsing alluringly as he watched. For a moment, the scientist was unable to move, struggling as he was assaulted fully by the heat phermones and the view of a valve deep in it’s heat cycle.

Wheeljack had never spiked another mech in heat. The sight and aroma hit him with unexpected force, bathing his senses and distracting him from his mission. Though he noticed all of this in a matter of nano-kliks, it was enough for Wheejack to pause a moment too long.

Starscream weakly struggled, trying to close his bent knees only to find Wheeljack between them. The flight frame froze, reaching out with his field tentatively as he was too weak to raise his helm. Wheeljack ran his hand across Starscream’s thigh and sent a feeling of comfort and reassurance through his field. Receiving it, Starscream relaxed his legs slightly until they no longer pressed against Wheeljack.

“I’m going to do it now, Starscream. It’ll be over soon.” A soft sound that might have been a sob came from the seeker, but Wheeljack didn’t respond.  
Reaching forward, the scientist nuzzled the tip of the rubber-coated syringe against the folds of Starscream’s glistening valve. Starscream’s body tensed at the sensation, but he didn’t squeeze his legs closed again. Wheeljack continued to gently massage the plump valve lips with the false spike, dragging it through the gathered lubricant until it was slick itself. When he deemed the tip wet enough that it wouldn’t pull on the delicate mesh, Wheeljack eased the tip of the syringe into Starscream’s clenching valve.

The seeker’s spinal strut arched fully at the intrusion, inadvertently showing off Starscream’s many assets. His wings splayed wide, twitching beautifully as he gasped air through his vents. Subconsciously, Starscream’s hips jolted in little movements, his body desperate for friction. His valve seemed to suckle on the end of the syringe as it tried to draw more of it in.

Wheeljack watched it all, entranced by the stunning perfection that was the jet. Wheeljack had always known that the seeker was handsome. But he’d never dreamed that he’d see this side of Starscream. That he’d see the ruler of Cybertron moaning, valve bared as Wheeljack pleasured him during his heat.

With a smooth movement, Wheeljack hilted the syringe filled with fluid into Starscream’s valve. Though far more slender than a spike, Starscream’s valve fit tightly around the syringe as he hadn’t interfaced for some time. Once he felt the syringe tip pierce the gel sealing Starscream’s gestation tank, Wheeljack pressed down on the plunger, emptying the “faux-fluid” straight into the chamber.

Starscream tensed and Wheeljack looked up to the seeker’s face. Starscream’s optics, though dark, were blown wide. His intake was open in a silent cry of ecstasy as the overload crashed through him and Wheeljack pressed a hand flat on Starscream’s lower torso to keep him still.The red flight frame writhed under Wheeljack’s careful treatment. His vocalizer hadn’t rebooted correctly and all that came from Starscream’s intake was a continuous, single-note moan. Briefly, Wheeljack hoped that the seeker’s self-repair system would fix the problems caused by the heat during his recharge period. 

The seeker twitched weakly as the overload slowly released him. While Starscream’s frame slowly relaxed and he fell into a deep recharge, Wheeljack eased the syringe slowly from the loosened valve. As he did, he continued to press the plunger to ensure that the valve itself was coated in the fluid as well. Once finished, Wheeljack retrieved another lab rag from his subspace and wrapped it carefully around the syringe. He would clean it once he made it to-

He gazed down at the unconscious mech in front of him. What now? Starscream couldn’t stay on the floor of the storage closet and Wheeljack needed to mix more of the “faux-fluid.” When Starscream woke, the coding would require more transfuild in a few cycles. After a nano-klik or so more of deliberating, Wheejack crawled backwards and out from between Starscream’s legs.

The scientist hurriedly wiped the worst of the mess off of Starscream’s aft and legs and manually closed the seeker’s modestly panel. Once satisfied that Starscream was as comfortable as he could be under the circumstances, Wheeljack carefully wormed his arms behind the red mech’s legs and around his wings. One of the wings caught on his plating, straining the thin, sensitive metal. Starscream actually whimpered at the discomfort, surprising Wheeljack again in his vulnerability. “Shh, Star. I’ve got you.”

Hoisting the none-too-light flyer into his arms, Wheeljack shifted the broad expanse of the wings so that they wouldn’t hit the door frame or get caught on anything else. Wheeljack knew that Starscream valued privacy and his own pride above all else. That eliminated taking him to a medic or anywhere else very far. Slowly so as to not jostle his cargo, Wheeljack made his way back through the halls to his lab.


	5. Chapter 5

***  
Their faces. He would never forget his trine’s faces.

Horror. Disgust. It wasn’t directed at Starscream, he knew that. But it was so clear in their fields, too close to what he felt about himself.

They’d found him on the floor of the common room. He’d been covered in fluids, a vile mix of his own and his attackers. He could still hear the sound that Thundercracker’s vocalizer made as the blue jet crumpled to his knees beside Starscream. The high keen of agony that came from his usually steady trine mate still echoed in Starscream’s audials after all those centuries. Thundercracker had gathered their broken leader into his arms, fanning his wings out as wide as they’d go and shielding Starscream from the sight of any lingering mechs.

Skywarp had released a screech and extended his sharp talons. The purple seeker, usually the most outgoing of the three, had instantly gone into an attack stance. But his display was thwarted by the cleaner that drenched his cheeks, pouring from bright red optics. A quiet word from Thundercracker called him back and, in a flash of violet, the three of them vanished.

Sometime during it all, Starscream had fallen into forced stasis, cradled in the safety of his trine’s arms.  
***

As he slowly woke, the first thing he registered was the dull aching in his struts. Starscream felt heavy and weak, not quite able to lift his helm. He soon realized that it would’ve been useless anyway as his optics were too blurry to see anything.

Starscream next felt the cool air wafting over his vents. Unsure of what damage would cause him to be taken to the medical ward, the red seeker hesitated before spinning up his fans. After a few half-hearted creaks of protest, the turbines spun smoothly as he cranked them up and down. Starscream soon realized why he didn’t need them.

Cool compresses were covering his transformation seams, fashioned out of soft rags dipped in medical grade energon. The flyer scoffed for a moment. It wouldn’t be wise to use medical grade for such a thing, especially during war time. They would need the medical grade for battle wounds-

Starscream curled his fingers experimentally and found them all accounted for. A quick flex of his wings told him that there was no severe sensor damage rather than the persistent ache from before. Frustrated, he blinked quickly, trying to manipulate his field. More than anything else, he had trouble sending and receiving through it. Almost like he was-

His wings aching. Field distortion. The confusion as to where he was and why.

Heat.

Dread flooded him faster than he could calm himself. Immediately, the seeker struggled to sit up, but found himself too weak. He tried kicking his ped over the side in hopes he could swing himself upright and onto the floor. He was too exposed, to vulnerable-

“Starscream! Easy, now!”

A familiar field washed over the panicking flyer. He barely paused his thrashing, pathetically trying to get away from the new field enveloping him. He’d been damaged by friends and lovers before. After all, Megatron himself had been a lover once, at the war’s start. Look what that monster had done to him- had left him to-

With a burst of new energy, Starscream managed to swing a fist upward. A thud and accompanying grunt told him that he’d struck his new attacker’s helm. The seeker writhed momentarily before his wrist was seized in a far stronger grip. Ashamed at the thin wail that broke from his vocalizer, Starscream clamped his denta together and he felt a fang pierce his lower lip. 

The taste of fresh energon seeping into his intake had Starscream retreating into himself, somewhere that he could hide from the coming assault. He allowed his chassis to go limp and his processor to fall blank. Perhaps if he didn’t fight, he would receive less damage in the long run-

“Fraggit, Star! It’s me! Wheeljack!”

Wheeljack. Starscream reopened his optics, unsure of when he’d closed them. Trembling violently, the seeker tried to get them to focus, but all he could see was a pale blur hovering above him. “Wheeljack?”

Embarrassment battled with relief. He hadn’t been left to die in the closet. But how had the heat abated? Vaguely and with a blush rising in his face, Starscream began to remember the powerful overload that had ripped through his heat ravaged frame. He remembered the way his vocalizer had shorted and how he had allowed himself to feel the short burst of concentrated pleasure, knowing that Wheeljack would protect him.

Starscream tried to fix his face into one of casual amusement. As his optics finally began to come around, he found himself face to face with the speedster-scientist. Wheeljack’s blue optics glowed above him as he spoke, battle mask muffling his words slightly. “How you feelin’?”

Suppressing a snort, Starscream wiggled his fingers and peds. They still shook a little from lingering fatigue, but the heavy feeling was beginning to abate. The seeker crinkled his nose at the sensation. “I’m fine,” he muttered shortly. Deep under his plating, he felt the still active heat coding raking through his lines to cause a lingering burn in his valve. 

Starscream squirmed in discomfort, failing to hide it behind his confident façade. Wheeljack pretended not to notice and instead reached to a side table. Starscream took the moment to survey the room and was surprised to find that he wasn’t at the hospital at all. He was in Wheeljack’s lab. 

Slowly, the rest of the fuzzy memories began to come back to Starscream. The former Wrecker turned back to him, holding something in his hands. Starscream rolled his helm to the side so he could get a better look while still lying down. He recognized the false spike from earlier.

Wheeljack twiddled the syringe-turned-sex-toy in his fingers as he spoke. “The heat coding won’t be satisfied yet. At least that’s what Ratchet says.” The mustang flicked his gaze to the side table before reaching for a beaker sitting on it. Starscream watched the viscous fluid swirl lazily around as Wheeljack took it into his hand. “This is the transfluid Perceptor engineered. You just compress the plunger, put the tip in and-“

Starscream rolled his optics. “I know how to fill a syringe,” he muttered snappishly before trying to swipe the syringe from the scientist’s hand. He missed, swiping underneath of his target. With a growl, the jet tried again with even less success as he barely lifted his hand at all that time.

“Easy, you got pretty hot.” Realizing his wording, Wheeljack blushed under his battle mask. “I- I mean-“

“Shut up.”

“Yeah.”

Confused at Wheeljack’s sudden submissive, shy behavior, Starscream narrowed an optic at him before trying once more to sit up. He hissed when Wheeljack moved to help him, realizing then that the scientist had only stood up to walk across his lab. Starscream watched as Wheeljack set about dipping more rags into a cup of medical energon, wringing out the excess before making his way back to the jet. The seeker watched as the scientist carefully tugged the old wraps from his transformation seams and replaced them with new ones. Finally, Starscream couldn’t stand it any longer. “Why didn’t you just frag me?”

Black hands stilled where they had begun pressing one of the wraps into Starscream’s hip seam. Confusion danced in Wheeljack’s field before he looked up to meet Starscream’s gaze. Even with his battle mask in place, the jet could tell that the former Wrecker wore a deep, displeased frown. “You didn’t want to. So I didn’t.”

“So you would have? If… If I’d wanted to?”

Wheeljack picked up working the cool compresses into place before he answered. “Yeah, Star. But we didn’t need to. We won’t have to.”

Starscream watched as Wheeljack finished up. He balled the old compresses up in a hand before setting the syringe closer to the transfluid on the side table. Wheeljack stared down at the pair of objects for a moment before speaking. His gaze didn’t leave the side table. “If you want, I can help you back to your place. Or to a medic. Get your circuits checked out.” Not meeting his gaze, the speedster flicked his attention to the compresses decorating Starscream’s slim frame. “I got your fans running again, but you’ve gone some minor paint bubbling and a few nasty burns on your protoform. The medical grade should help ease the aching, but-“

“Thank you, Wheeljack.” 

The words felt strange on Starscream’s glossa. He watched, amused, as Wheeljack fumbled a little, turning away from the seeker to venture back across the lab. “No problem. Now, where did you want to go? Once you’ve got some strength up, you could-“

“I’m staying here if it’s fine with you.”

Wheeljack, who’d been wringing out another rag, abruptly dropped it back into the beaker. An undignified noise came from behind Wheeljack’s mask as medical grade splashed up onto his hand. Optics wide, the scientist turned back to where Starscream lay. The seeker kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling, void of any emotion that would clue Wheeljack to his motives.

When Wheeljack finally returned to his side, Starscream chanced a side-eye in his direction. The jet didn’t have much time to look at him though. The next moment, Wheeljack dragged the freshly soaked rag down Starscream’s wing. 

Starscream jerked as his sensory net lit up under the light pressure of the rag. Wheeljack quickly pulled away. “Too much?”

Starscream shook his helm ‘no’ and watched as the scientist returned to stroke the appendage even more gently than before. The jet resisted the urge to squirm under Wheeljack’s ministrations. He reminded himself that the scientist had never harmed him. That Wheeljack could be trusted. 

The wings of seekers were the most sensitive component to both pleasure and pain. As Wheeljack’s fingertips grazed his fluttering wing, Starscream knew that Wheeljack wouldn’t try to take advantage him. But that fact still didn’t make the coddling any easier. “What are you doing that for anyway?”

Wheeljack didn’t look up as he continued to caress the expanse of the wing. “You’ve got some damage to the sensory net. I reckon it’s what’s got you off balance and why your field ain’t projectin’ quite right. Medical grade being directly applied to the burnt out sensors will help them heal faster than havin’ you drink it.”

“And just how did you come by this information?”

Starscream could almost hear the smile in Wheeljack’s voice. “Ratchet, again.”

The jet huffed and relaxed back onto the berth. “Does he know everything or do I have any privacy at all?”

It had come out more waspishly than he’d intended, but Wheeljack didn’t miss a beat. “Well, Star, when I found you refusing help and more than happy to die without it, I didn’t know who to contact that wouldn’t spread rumors here on-planet. So I got ahold of a medic who wouldn’t compromise a patient, whether it be you or Optimus Prime himself.”

The jet pulled in air through his vents and released it in a very human sigh. Wheeljack was right. Contacting the fearsome CMO had likely been the right choice. Starscream settled himself more comfortably on the berth. “You don’t have to fawn over me. I can use that thing.” He titled his helm in the direction of the syringe and mixture.

Wheeljack finished up with what he could reach of the wing. “Sure, go for it. Since you’re stayin,’ just- uh, let me know when you’re gonna use it.”

“Where will you go?” A unexpected flash of apprehension passed through Starscream’s processor at the thought of being left alone.

Wheeljack studied the seeker for a moment before striding back across the lab. “I’ll be just outside or in the back. Nobody’ll come in here, if that’s what you're worried about.” The scientist dipped the rag back into the beaker and wrung it out. He watched with keen interest as the droplets splashed back into the beaker. “You’re safe here in the lab.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Of course you aren’t.”

Wheeljack’s tone was sincere enough, but Starscream caught the sense of exasperated sarcasm in the glyphs. The ex-Wrecker returned to Starscream’s side and made his way around to the other wing. The first touch of the drenched cloth brought a shiver to the seeker’s frame that he couldn’t quite suppress in time. As Wheeljack bathed the sensitive metal, he spoke. “Next time you wake, I’ll bring you some energon and coolant. Got some into you earlier, but you were a little out of it. More wouldn’t hurt you.”

Starscream flexed the wing under Wheeljack’s careful treatment, savoring in the feeling as his damaged sensors began the healing process. “Who said I was going to sleep?”

Wheeljack didn’t offer an answer as he continued his rhythmic strokes. The seeker soon felt himself being lolled into recharge by the feeling, coupled with the warm field wrapped around him. As hard as he struggled to stay alert, Starscream’s weary body soon succumbed. The last thing his swimming processor remembered was a sheet, pastel green and deliciously warm, being tucked under his chin.


	6. Chapter 6

Wheeljack watched as the seeker slipped into recharge. It was strange to watch those usually severe faceplates fall into something close to relaxation. The scientist doubted that he’d ever seen the ruler of Cybertron so relaxed and vulnerable.

He also knew that it wouldn’t last. Soon the heat would rise again to torment Starscream’s frame and Wheeljack wasn’t sure he was ready for it yet. The heat pheromones, though Starscream didn’t seem to be aware of them himself, had begun to effect the scientist. Just being right beside the flight frame was almost too much.

Usually, Wheeljack would retract his battle mask when he worked in the lab. He was alone then and away from prying optics and from those who would ogle at his scarred intake. Even though the war was over, his mangled lip plates would always serve a reminder of the violence. So Wheeljack hid his face away and only bared it when he was alone in his lab or his quarters.

Now, with the beautiful seeker laying across the room in a heat-induced recharge, Wheeljack didn’t dare retract his battle mask, afraid that the struggle would be all to obvious on his face. Even with Starscream motionless and unconscious, heat pheromones wafted lazily against Wheejack’s vents. The air was thick with the perfume of desire and arousal, almost enough to be a solid presence against Wheeljack’s plating. The scientist forced himself to blink the foggy feeling from his optics as he refocused on the mixture before himself.

He’d been completing the next dosage of faux fluid when he heard it. A soft shuffle of plating scraping against the berth on the other side of the lab. Next came a gasp and then a moan, long and sensual. Wheeljack felt the cords in his neck tighten at the sound and something stirred low in his tanks.

Fumbling, Wheeljack forced his hands to stop shaking. Part of him wished that Starscream had left, that he’d gone back to his own quarters. The scientist took one of the delicate glass stirring sticks and carefully mixed the last of the “faux fluid.”

Wheeljack turned to look at the seeker on the other side of the room. Th thin sheet that Wheeljack had draped over the slender red flight frame did little as far as concealing Starscream’s lithe body from the scientist. He watched, transfixed, as another soft moan passed through Starscream’s parted lips.

Wheeljack jerked, hurrying to turn away from the intoxicating sight as Starscream’s spinal strut arched upward under the sheet. He gasped through his vents, instantly regretting the action. Starscream’s heady scent filled his helm, making him dizzy as he forced himself to look away. 

He turned too fast.

Wheeljack’s spinning helm and shaking hands were too much. His elbow joint collided with the edge of his workbench and Wheeljack barely had time to react before the beaker was knocked from his fingertips.

The loud crash that followed a moment later and the splash of thick fluid across his peds told Wheeljack all he needed to know. He looked down to find the beaker shattered and the transfluid substitute splattered across the floor of his lab.

“What in-?” Wheeljack slowly lifted his optics from the mess on the floor. Starscream’s helm was turned toward him, watching with distain. The seeker’s gaze flicked form the shattered beaker and back to Wheeljack, significantly slower than usual. Soon, he would need another round of “faux fluid.”

Cautiously, Wheeljack straightened and moved toward his guest. “How’re you feelin’?”

Starscream’s wings twitched under him. His optics were dull as he tried to follow Wheeljack’s movements and the scientist watched as Starscream blinked rapidly and the red optics cleared slightly. Instead of answering, the ex-Decepticon quirked an optic ridge at the beaker behind Wheeljack. “You gonna make more?”

The question halted Wheeljack in his tracks. Quickly, he read the meaning under Starscream’s question. The seeker was checking on him, testing him to see if he would hold to his promise. He was making sure that Wheeljack still didn’t intend to interface him. “Yeah, Star, I’m gonna make more.” He watched some of the tension in Starscream’s chassis fade. A few moments passed before Wheeljack resumed making his way to the jet’s side.

Wheeljack paused once there, waiting for Starscream to nod before he moved to lay the back of his hand against the jet’s cockpit. The scientist felt the heat beginning to rise again under the glass. Soon it would be back at its full power. Wheeljack pulled the sheet back up over the seeker and felt Starscream’s field shiver around him before quickly retreating.

Without another word, Wheeljack retreated back to his work station and set about mixing a new beaker of the fake transfuild. He felt Starscream watching him as he moved, felt a field tentatively reaching out toward him. Every time the field nudged at his own, Starscream would yank it back, like it was a wandering turbofox on a too-long leash.

After several moments. Starscream finally spoke into the quiet that had settled between them. “What do you want from me?”

The question forced Wheeljack to pause, his hand stilling from where it had been reaching for another ingredient. He thought for a moment. Well, what did he want? Quickly, the scientist reviewed what he was doing. Why was he helping Starscream?

Slowly, Wheeljack began to stir in the next ingredient and watched the next color come over the mixture. A soft pink glow told him that he was on the right track as he wiped the lip of the beaker off. Why was he doing this? He certainly had no reason to.

His comm. beeped. Windblade.

Wheeljack held a hand to his helm as he turned to face Starscream. The seeker’s scowl deepened as he answered the comm. :Yeah, Windblade?:

:How is he?:

Wheeljack held optic contact with Starscream as his spoke into the comm. :A lot better than before. How’s it out there?:

He could almost hear Windblade sighing through the comm. :Nobody knows anything. Surprisingly, Chromia has been keeping everything mum. Even threatened Rattrap within an inch of his spark.:

Wheeljack couldn’t hold back a snort of disbelief. :Chromia? Our Chromia? Didn’t see her defending Starscream of all mechs.:

:Mainly, I think she just wants to keep progress going and drama to a minimum…: An awkward pause came from Windblade’s end of the comm. :Hey Wheeljack?:

The scientist turned back to the mixture on his workbench, dodging the death glare Starscream was aiming at him. :Yeah?:

:Did you and Star…? Uhm-:

Her question brought unexpected heat the Wheeljack’s faceplates. Hurriedly, he stirred another component of the transfuild into the beaker. :No, no. I figured something out that seems to be working pretty well so far.:

He heard the relief in Windblade’s next comm. :Oh, good. I’m not sure what’s going on, but he-:

An abrupt choking noise had Wheeljack spinning around.

He turned just in time to see Starscream’s helm slam back onto the berth where he lay. Wheeljack watched, frozen, as the seeker’s chassis writhed violently. Starscream’s optics were blown wide and stared sightlessly at the ceiling as his wings jerked and flapped against the berth. A bolt of sparks arched from beneath Starscream’s dark helm as it clattered against the berth a second time.

Then Wheeljack was in motion. 

Within moments, he was at the thrashing mech’s side, pressing his hand to the dark forehelm as he tried to keep it from slamming back on the berth again. Starscream’s optics fixed on him briefly and Wheeljack’s spark nearly broke at the naked fear he saw in those red orbs. But there was something else that hadn’t been there before, too. 

Somewhere amidst trying to keep Starscream from hurting himself and holding his own body back from succumbing to the heat of the mech before him, Wheeljack realized that Starscream wasn’t afraid of him. Wheeljack felt the realization break through his processor as he pinned Starscream’s flailing arms down against his wings. The seeker wasn’t afraid of Wheeljack. He was afraid of dying.

In Wheeljack’s moment of distracted elation, his grip weakened on the seizing jet. The mustang’s processor didn’t have time to feel his vents open wide, he didn’t feel the gulps of heat-saturated air that they pulled in. He didn’t have time to feel the field that whipped around him like an angry Earth-ocean or the talons that sunk possessively into his plating.

Wheeljack only felt the heat-driven lips that landed on his.


	7. Chapter 7

Primus, he was so _warm._

He didn’t remember allowing his mask to slide away, but he was glad that it had.

Wheeljack released a whine from his vocalizer as hungry lips latched onto his own. Starscream’s mouth tasted and felt better than the smoothest high grade, like Wheeljack could get drunk just by kissing him. The seeker released an answering keen from where he was straining upward to meet Wheeljack. Time seemed to fade away as Wheeljack reached out to toward one of those beautiful, fluttering wings. Starscream purred as he sank a fang into Wheeljack’s lip-

:Wheeljack? You there?:

Windblade’s voice felt like cold solvent against his rapidly warming armor. The scientist quickly reeled backwards and away from the mech on the berth. His lip burned from where it had been torn in Starscream’s fangs and he clapped his mask closed before the seeker got a chance to see his scarred face. He’d completely forgotten about Windblade.

:Y-yeah, here?:

:Are you…? Actually, I don’t wanna know-:

Wheeljack, still flustered, stumbled his way back to the workbench across the room. :N-no! Listen, I-uh- I gotta go-:

Amusement colored Windblade’s next comm. :Don’t have too much fun.: 

Wheeljack tipped the beaker and watched the consistency of the “faux fluid.” It tracked lazily against the edges. It was done setting. Wheeljack took the syringe from his subspace as Windblade sent another more serious comm. :But seriously, Wheeljack. Be careful.:

The scientist barely had processor space to think about the strange concern in her comm. She seemed to genuinely care about the seeker who lay across the room. He put the oddity to the back of his processor for later review as he pulled back the plunger. Vaguely, Wheeljack was aware of Starscream still seizing as he filled the false spike with fluid.

By the time he’d made it back to the seeker’s side, Starscream lay limp under the green sheet. Popping noises came from under his armor as the seeker’s wrecked chassis struggled to cool itself. Wheeljack could barely hear himself think over the din that was Starscream’s fans. Closing his own vents, Wheeljack practically tore away the green sheet from Starscream’s frame.

Quickly and with a professionalism that Ratchet would be proud of, Wheeljack manually popped the seeker’s warped panel without flinching. Starscream’s valve lips visibly pulsated, painful and swollen with arousal. The red mech gasped with relief as his overheated array was bared to the cooler air of the lab. The biolights that encircled and disappeared into the heavily lubricating valve flared so brightly that Wheeljack thought they might blow.

The scientist began to ease the syringe toward the seeker’s valve when he heard Starscream muttering. “Star?”

“Please- I- Mm-“

Wheeljack shifted until he could see Starscream’s face at the head of the berth. The seeker's red optics were dark and blank, seeing something far away. Wheeljack watched as moisture gathered in them and he couldn’t keep silent anymore. “Starscream?”

The seeker jolted at the sound of Wheeljack’s question, even though it was spoken in the barest whisper. Starscream blinked slowly and two twin streaks of moisture trailed down the sides of his helm. At any other time, Wheeljack would’ve been stunned by the show of emotion on the usually unapproachable jet’s face. Lips clumsy, the seeker muttered so softly that Wheeljack could barely catch the words. “Don’t let- them- me- please-“

Beginning to understand Starscream’s past abuse, Wheeljack kept his voice calm but firm as he spoke. “It’s me. Wheeljack. I won’t let them have you ever again, Star. I promise.”

Starscream’s mouth worked as more moisture gathered in his optics. Slowly, Wheeljack began to massage the sore valve lips with the end of the false spike. The jet didn’t seem to notice as he panted, partly with fear and partly with pained arousal. Wheeljack pressed the plunger just enough that some of the fluid dribbled against the irritated outer ring of Starscream’s valve. Almost instantly, the tensed ring of calipers relaxed enough for Wheeljack to start sliding the syringe inside. 

The whole while, Wheeljack gently rubbed a hand along Starscream’s shaking thigh as he whispered encouragement to the seeker. “You’re doing great, Star. Not long now, it’ll be over soon…”

Once hilted, Wheejack gave Starscream a second to adjust before he maneuvered the syringe to pierce the gestation chamber wall. The slight sting gained minimal reaction from the seeker who just twitched his thighs slightly under Wheeljack’s hand. The scientist paused long enough to reassure the jet once more before he compressed the syringe’s plunger.

Plating creaked as Starscream’s chassis when limp against the berth. Wheeljack continued to watch his face from where he was bent between Starscream’s legs. The red mech was still panting lightly, glossa peeking out and just visible from between his lips. Wheeljack watched the jet’s face relax as he dragged the syringe from the loosened valve, pressing the plunger as he did.

He looked down long enough to wipe away some of the lubricant from the syringe’s surface. Wheeljack had just finished subspacing the syringe when he heard a voice come from the other end of the berth. It was hoarse and barely audible, but to Wheeljack, the words were as clear as day.

“Thank you.”

~o0o~ 

“His fine circuitry is probably fried. It’s the only thing that could cause him to seize so severely.” Ratchet dragged a hand down his faceplates before fixing Wheeljack with a glare. “He needs a medic, Wheeljack. Who knows what kind of damage he’s got under his plating-“

“I can’t make him go, Ratchet.” Wheeljack stood strong under the medic’s stern look at having interrupted him. “He trusts me. I can’t betray that by bringing in someone else without asking him first.”

The speedster watched as Ratchet’s annoyance faded to something closer to frustrated sympathy. “I know you can’t. You’re likely the only one he trusts on the whole slagging planet. Probably the whole universe, considering how Starscream’s processor works.” He hesitated, something that was very out of character for the usually unflappable CMO. “Wheeljack, I- I found out what happened to Starscream.”

Wheeljack lifted his gaze from where he’d fixed it on the wall just below the screen. Even with his battle mask in place, he struggled to control his face. “How?”

Ratchet piddled with a datapad as he spoke. “You know Drift’s past…”

Wheeljack nodded. Deadlock, now called Drift, had been a fearsome adversary before he switched to the Autobot cause. Realization dawned on Wheeljack. If Drift knew what had happened to Starscream-

Wheeljack surprised himself when a feral growl came from deep within his chest. “Ratchet, did he…?”

Ratchet’s optics widened before narrowing and then widening again, even further than before. “For Pit’s sake, Wheeljack! No! He didn’t- he wasn’t-“

Wheeljack chanced a look over his shoulder a the seeker across the room. Starscream had fallen into a deep recharge following the latest ordeal. Now, the red mech lay still enough to be permanently offlined, coated in the cooling compresses fashioned from medical grade and lab rags. Wheeljack studied him for a moment longer before turning back to the screen. “Okay, Ratchet. What did he say?”

Ratchet cast a look between Wheeljack and Starscream that left the scientist puzzled before he continued. “He was there when it happened. Megatron pretty much threw Starscream to the ranks. That monster fed a heated mech to a crowd like- like-“

Wheeljack turned away from the screen, unable to meet Ratchet’s gaze. The medic continued, though haltingly. “Drift stopped them from killing him. Commed his trine. That’s all Drift would tell me about it. Other than that it was a common practice in the Decepticon ranks to deal with mechs in heat. It was ‘efficient.’”

Wheeljack pressed his hand flat against the workbench to steady himself. He was shaking badly. His voice was weak when he finally managed to speak again. “Ratchet, can’t we do something?”

Before Ratchet even shook his head in the negative, Wheeljack knew that there was nothing that could change what had happened. Starscream had been severely traumatized. Wheeljack was reminded of the stories that circulated within the Autobot ranks during the war. Megatron’s abuse of Starscream, both mental and physical, was well-known among mechs and femmes on both sides. True, Starscream could be a conniving, self-serving aft. But to survive so much spark ache and trauma, at the hands of a former lover no less? Starscream must’ve been made of something far more resilient than anybot knew.

“I’ve gotta mix more fluid. I’ll call if anything changes.”

Without waiting for a reply, Wheeljack cut he comm. before his emotions got the best of him. War was terrible. He had seen the worst of it. Primus, he’d had his own face disfigured permanently because of it. Wheeljack, when it came down to it, was battle-hardened. It took a lot to move him or any of the Wreckers for that matter.

The scientist gathered the supplies he would need to render the next dose of “faux fluid.” Though he was unphased by many forms of violence, he couldn’t shake the terror he’d seen in Starscream’s optics, in his field. He’d felt the seeker’s panic, had glimpsed the suffering harbored deep inside Starscream’s spark. 

Wheeljack looked down at two empty containers, staring at them numbly in his grip. After several moments, it registered to him. He wouldn’t be able to make the mixture again, not in time for Starscream’s next bout with the heat coding. The ingredients would take cycles to get delivered to his lab.

The seeker’s pained optics swirled before Wheeljack’s processor. _Don’t let them have me, please-_

And Wheeljack wept for his former enemy.


	8. Chapter 8

_He’d never dreamed of interfacing, at least not like this._

_His spark was pounding in his chassis, unable to spin fast enough. A body rocked into his and a hand caressed his slender waist. Fingers, skillful and patient, tugged gently at the wires under his plating. The talented digits played him like some kind of Earth-instrument, dragging the most provocative sounds from his vocalizer._

_And that mouth, Primus help him. That mouth was everywhere, licking across his taut throat cables as the seeker submitted. Starscream wasn’t the type to submit to anyone. But he tilted his helm back for the owner of that mouth, surrendering fully and in the most primal way that one could._

_He could feel a spike, thick and heavy, rocking into his clenching valve. A gasp was pulled from his throat as careful denta tugged at the cables. All the while, the hips never stopped moving, claiming him over and over in the sweetest way. He was aware of the slow, delicious way that the spike penetrated his body and yet he wasn’t scared or embarrassed or angry at all._

_Weird. He’d never dreamed of interfacing, at least not like this._

_Starscream felt his wings dance for whoever was making love to him. Yes, that’s what this was. It had to be. This was what mechs talked about, this kind of sweet, tank-tightening ecstasy. Starscream couldn’t hold back the gasps that escaped his mouth, each rounded off in a little cry as each thrust of his lover massaged his ceiling nodes._

_Oh, his partner. The sounds he made, like Starscream was the last energon in existence, like he was necessary for this lover’s survival. Little grunts punctuated each thrust, occasionally interspersed with weak, wavering moans that drove Starscream’s spark wild within his chest._

_Somehow, he knew. This mech wasn’t just fragging him or the sake of fragging. Starscream mattered to this mech. This meant something. He meant something to this mech._

_Those denta paused their gentle nipping at his neck long enough for the mysterious lover to move up. Starscream felt the warm flick of a glossa against his audial before his lover spoke._

_Even with a voice hoarse from desire and the strain of holding off his own overload, Starscream would’ve known that voice anywhere._

_“I won’t let them have you ever again, Star. I promise.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully Star's dreams will come true ;)


	9. Chapter 9

Starscream purred and scrunched his nasal ridge as he woke. Taking a deep inhale through his vents, the seeker flexed his struts one by one. Slowly, the tension faded from his joints and he felt cool pressure at the apex of each one. Wheeljack must’ve put the cool compresses back into place. A sigh escaped the seeker as the memory of the dream continued to repeat itself in his helm.

He had never interfaced the way he had in the dream. Before the war, when he had first entered a relationship with Megatron, interfacing had been more of a fight. Megatron had always spiked him forcefully, as if dominating the smaller mech was how interfacing was supposed to be. Starscream remembered the pain of his seals being torn with no sense of consideration from his partner. The jet had taken the act in stride; after all, it was the way things were done in the gladiatorial pits. He couldn’t expect any kind of gentleness from Megatron. 

Megatron had been his first, even before his first heat cycle that he shared with his new trine. Even the interfacing with his trine was often out of necessity. Seeker heat coding needed to be satisfied for their health and survival. Though Starscream had truly loved Thundercracker and Skywarp, the interfacing wouldn’t have been part of their relationship without the heat coding.

It had just been a dream, but somehow, it was more genuine and wholesome than anything else Starscream had ever experienced. Deep down, he knew that his heat played a role in his desire to interface. There was no denying what he instinctually craved.

But he’d felt his lover’s field around him, cradling him in his pleasure. It had felt like that cloth that humans loved to much, that smooth, glimmering material. Searching his memory banks, Starscream remembered that it was called velvet. That’s what his lover’s field had been like as it wove around his own.

_I won’t let them have you ever again, Star. I promise._

The moment the soft, twanging voice had murmured those words to him, Starscream had known who his lover was. Starcream had never looked at the scientist in such a way. Sure, Wheeljack had his adorable quirks. The way his helm fins glowed when he was annoyed or surprised. Or the way his winglets telegraphed his every emotion, flicking upward when an experiment proved successful. Or when he-

It had to be the heat talking. 

Starscream shifted slightly on the berth, trying to take some of the strain off of his wings. Yes, the ex-Wrecker was attractive. Starscream had just never had a reason to acknowledge it. Even if he had, the scientist had no reason to give the seeker a second glance.

Starscream clenched and unclenched his hands into fists against the berth under him. He wasn’t a mech that dwelled on his short comings. He knew that he was handsome, even by flight frame standards. He knew that he was smart to some degree, having gotten into the Academy and studying the sciences so long ago. Besides, only a smart mech could survive under a regime like Megatron’s.

But then again, he wasn’t so smart was he? After all, he’d followed Megatron, even to point at which Megatron literally threw him to-

Even with his flirting and prancing, he’d been unable to keep his former lover happy. Even after being roughly used again and again by the larger mech, it hadn’t been enough. Starscream could remember interfaces that left him unable to stand for the pain in his array. There were times that his vocalizer had almost been permanently crushed as those big hands closed around his throat, leaving the seeker unable to protest as the other mech forced himself into Starscream’s under-prepared valve.

It had never been enough. _He_ had never been enough.

No, Wheeljack wouldn’t have given Starscream a second glance even if the jet had shown interest. No mech in his right processor would put up with somebot as damaged as Starscream. So the jet hadn’t allowed himself to be attracted to anyone, had accepted that no mech would bother with a seeker that couldn’t interface without panicking.

But that dream. He couldn’t put it aside.

He couldn’t tell Wheeljack. 

“How you feelin’?”

Speak of the Unmaker. Starscream tilted his helm far enough that he could look across the lab.

Wheeljack was walking toward him, a datapad and a glass in his hands. Starscream watched as the scientist’s thumb swiped through whatever he’d been reviewing. When Wheeljack finally reached the side of Starscream’s berth, he closed the datapad and spoke again. He voice sounded strained. “Ratchet wants me to call in a medic-“

“No.”

Wheeljack lifted an optical ridge. “That’s what I told him.” The scientist moved to poke at one of the compresses on Starscream’s left arm. The jet followed his gaze down and was stunned by what he saw. 

The plating was warped from high heat and the carefully applied red paint had bubbled and peeled. Starscream swallowed thickly at the sight of the damaged armor before he looked back up to Wheeljack. “Didn’t take you for one to challenge Ratchet.”

Wheeljack kept his optics fixed on the compress as he pulled it from the joint and went about airing the rag out. “Knew you didn’t want anyone to see you.”

Starscream muttered before he could stop himself. “What I want doesn’t count for much.”

When Wheeljack’s careful ministrations stopped abruptly, the jet realized that he’d spoken out loud. The scientist paused for only a moment longer before continuing to readjust the compresses, one at a time. His movements were deliberate and measured. 

For a moment, Starcream thought that Wheeljack would pretend that he hadn’t heard. He watched, his spark threatening to collapse inward on itself. Just when Starscream thought the moment had passed, Wheeljack whispered softly, never taking his optics off of his work.

“It matters to me.”

Starscream reviewed his options. He could use sarcasm, his go-to defense. He could ignore Wheeljack completely. He could change the subject abruptly and watch the scientist struggle to keep up.

But before he did any of those though, Wheeljack beat him to the next move. Reaching to the side table, he retrieved the glass that he’d brought across the room. “Energon, medical grade. It’ll help with the pain and your-“

“I know what medical grade does!”

Wheeljack wordlessly handed off the glass and Starscream managed to snatch it out of his hand. The jet hated being coddled… didn’t he?

Starscream never apologized. It wasn’t in his nature to admit it when he was wrong. So why did he feel so guilty for snapping?

Once again, Wheeljack beat him to the punch. “You asked me earlier what I wanted from you, Star.” The seeker lifted his gaze from the cup of medical grade to look at the scientist. 

The mech appeared to be struggling. In fact, Wheeljack was trembling all over, from his winglets to his fingertips. The white mech’s optics were bright when he looked back up at Starscream. “I don’t expect anything from you. I don’t think you’d call me a friend, maybe never will. All the same, just thought you should know that.”

Starscream held Wheeljack’s gaze, a thousand processing trees forming in his helm. No one did anything for free. Kindness was currency, it always had been. Starscream fixed the scientist with a narrowed look. “Why are you shaking?”

He watched as a blush filled what Starscream could see of his cheeks above the battle mask. Wheeljack blinked rapidly, but his blue optics stayed glassy and slightly out of focus. It seemed to be hard for him to form words. “J-just tired.”

Starscream, true to his nature, didn’t believe the mech. Something prodded at him from the back of his memory banks. The memory was hazy as he called it forward. Part of him wanted to believe that it was part of the delicious dream that he’d had. Another part of him hoped against hope that it was real.

“Wheeljack. Did I kiss you?”

The ex-Wrecker actually flinched before gathering himself enough to answer. “Yeah, earlier.” He fumbled and cursed when he dropped one of the compresses from his jittering fingers. “M-makin’ it hard to concentrate.”

The jet knew what had happened in that kiss. Seeker coding was highly impressive on prospective mates. The pheromones, having located a receptive mech or femme, tended to mold themselves to the mech or femme in such a way that would make a good match for the seeker in heat. When Starscream had kissed Wheeljack, the scientist had received a face-full of active pheromones, all keen on convincing the white mech that Starscream would make a good carrier for his sparklings. Though Starscream had no intention of carrying and Wheeljack had no intention of becoming his mate, the heat coding was ancient in its functioning. It was designed to ensure the survival of his species. In turn, whether Starscream liked it or not, his coding had broadcasted to Wheeljack that he was more than ready to be fragged through the nearest surface.

The fact that Wheeljack hadn’t jumped him already was impressive in itself.

Starscream squirmed away from Wheeljack. The scientist jerked his hands away from the jet like he’d been burnt. The coding hadn’t set Starscream’s armor ablaze again yet, so he knew that wasn’t the case. Wheeljack watched as Starscream gulped down the rest of the energon and the jet noticed that the mustang’s gaze was fixed on his throat as he swallowed.

“Wheeljack, listen. It’s the coding. I know it’s affecting you-“

“I know what happened, Star. During the war,” Starscream watched as the ex-Wrecker made to reach and touch him before forcing his hand back to his side. “I know you didn’t mean to kiss me or anythin’ and it’s fine. I just-“ The white mech closed his optics and vented shallowly. “Star, I’m not gonna touch you if you don’t want me to. I promised and I meant it.”

The dream resurfaced again before Starscream’s vision. The way Wheeljack’s field had felt like sunshine and safety and salve to his old wounds all at once. The strength in the speedster’s arms as he held Starscream close, like he was breakable, valuable-

The jet lifted his hand to the side of the scientist’s face. He drew a single black finger across one of those helm fins and watched it flash brightly at his touch. Starscream shoved the memory of his last heat far from his processor. Wheeljack had cared for him and had kept his promises, even as the heat coding told him to do otherwise. No, the mech before him was nothing like the others. 

Plus, Starscream felt partly responsible for dragging Wheeljack into this mess. The white mech leaned into his touch as Starscream continued to pet his helm fin slowly. His vocalizer glitched up twice before he was able to force himself to speak. “S-Star, I d-don’t- think-“

“It won’t be easy.” The admission of weakness came easily to Starscream, but he didn’t take the time to analyze it too closely. He had Wheeljack’s full attention as he moved to brush a thumb across the front of the ex-Wrecker’s mask. “I’ll try, Wheeljack.”

“You mean…?”

“Yes.”

“You s-sure?”

“Did I slagging stutter?”

“Well-“

“Shut up, Wheeljack. Kiss me. Before I change my mind.”

Starscream had no time to react as Wheeljack’s battle mask retracted, exposing the terrible scarring of his face. He felt a momentary pang of horror upon seeing the old injury, but it was quickly eclipsed. The next emotion he felt was relief as lips closed over his own.


	10. Chapter 10

Wheeljack had always prided himself as being a master of self-control. Sure, he blew a lot of stuff up in his lab. But he knew how to stop the worst of his impulses.

Now, with Starscream stretching up to kiss him, this time with a clear processor, Wheeljack felt his self-control slipping. With only a moment’s hesitation, he lifted a hand to press his palm against the side of Starscream’s helm. Distantly, he heard Starscream fail to stifle a desperate moan as the seeker began to heat up again under him.

Starscream, despite the terrible traumas he’d suffered, was giving Wheeljack a chance. The scientist wasn’t sure why, but the seeker was willing to try. A feeling of pride gripped Wheeljack’ spark as he slipped his glossa into the red mech’s eager mouth. Another whimper erupted from Starscream’s chassis, telling Wheeljack that he was on the right track.

The ex-Wrecker paused and pulled away from Starscream. The seeker tried following his lips before slumping back against the berth. Snorting, he spared Wheeljack a glare before averting his gaze. There was something about the seeker’s sudden demure attitude that was so out of character that Wheeljack nearly asked what was wrong. But Starscream spoke first. “Lose your nerve, Autobot?”

Wheeljack laughed aloud, but stopped when a strange emotion came through Starscream’s field. Before he could further analyze the strange projection, Wheeljack was yanked down into another scalding kiss from the seeker. His processor blanked out momentarily before the scientist pulled away again. “I- I was thinkin’ we should move to a real berth.”

Another emotion shot through Starscream’s wavering field before the seeker virtually yanked it back and away from Wheeljack. This time, the scientist stopped fully and fixed Starscream with a look. “Star, we don’t have to do this.” Starscream twitched as Wheeljack ran a fingertip out and across the red mech’s wing. “I can see if a medic would give me something to help with the heat and the pain.”

The seeker shifted then and looked up at Wheeljack. “But… the transfluid you engineered..?”

The scientist shook his helm. “I ran out of ingredients for it. I can have them here next cycle, but I’d need a medic to prescribe something to keep your temperature down ‘til then. I know you don’t wanna see a medic. Maybe I can just go and get somethin’.”

Starscream considered for a moment before speaking. “I want to try with you, Wheeljack. You don’t have to though. I’d- I’d understand.”

Wheeljack couldn’t help cocking his helm at the seeker’s word choice. “I said I’d help you, Star.”

The ex-Decepticon regarded him a moment longer before he turned his helm and caught Wheeljack’s fingertip between his lip plates. The scientist zeroed in on the seeker’s talented mouth as it played with the digit, feeling a spike of pleasure pass through him as Starscream’s glossa teased the tip. Wheeljack sputtered slightly and he fought to refocus. “D-do you not want me to help you?”

Starscream released the mustang’s fingertip and looked back up at his face. “I do…”

“Yeah?”

“Just… be gentle.”

The request took Wheeljack off-guard. Here lay the former second-in-command of the entire Decepticon army, the Air Commander of the Decepticon forces and a Senator of Vos. On top of all those, he was the present Ruler of Cybertron. Starscream was a mech greatly feared, known for his ruthless drive to get what he wanted. He was known for his cunning and his headstrong capability to survive. And now Starscream was asking Wheeljack to help him through his heat and to be gentle in doing it.

Wheeljack thought his spark would gutter out.

The scientist bent low and grazed his lip plates across Starscream’s dark cheek. He felt the seeker shiver at his touch. “Starscream, this may all be because of the heat coding. Regardless, I’ll do my best to make it good for you.”

He pulled away to find the seeker unable to meet his optics. Wheeljack watched patiently as Starscream rebooted his vocalizer before speaking. “My quarters. Bigger berth.”

Wheeljack leaned back and away as Starscream began to scramble upright. He watched as the seeker weakly tried kicking his peds over the side of the berth, flailing as his limbs refused to cooperate. Starscream collapsed backward, falling against the berth with a thud. Frustration colored his field along with a touch of something that Wheeljack identified as embarrassment. The scientist hurried to move behind the jet so he could help him lean forward. “Hold on, easy now.”

Starscream’s helm lolled momentarily and Ratchet’s fears from earlier were confirmed. The heat had burnt out the seeker’s fine circuitry, causing dizziness and, likely, a lot of disorientation. The white mech carefully slipped an arm behind Starscream’s wings to support him as the red mech’s dark helm wobbled on his neck cables. Starscream protested weakly before allowing his helm to fall against Wheeljack’s chest with a clang. The scientist was shocked at how quickly Starscream’s chassis was beginning to heat up. Soon the seeker would be overheating again. Wheeljack wasn’t sure how much more punishment Starscream’s body could take.

The seeker muttered something that Wheeljack didn’t quite catch. “What?” Starscream rolled his helm against Wheeljack’s plating. Drool had gathered on his lower lip, threatening to dribble onto the white mech’s armor. Wheeljack didn’t care. “Starscream, can you hear me? Star?”

The seeker lifted his helm slightly to look up at Wheeljack’s face. The scientist was barely aware that his scarred lips were bared for Starscream to see. He watched the former Decepticon blink up at him, gaze completely unguarded. “Hurry. It hurts.”

That was all the convincing Wheeljack needed before he was sweeping the seeker into his arms and exiting the lab. It was a long walk to reach Starscream’s apartments. By the look of the deteriorating jet resting in his arms, they didn’t have that kind of time.

Quickly, the scientist opened a comm. to Windblade and, without and preamble, Wheeljack began giving instructions. :Clear the halls between my lab and my quarters. Make sure no one is out-:

:Wheeljack? What in- :

:Quick, Windblade. Explain later.:

Starscream’s close proximity was beginning to effect the speedster again. Wheeljack could almost feel the pheromones taking control of his body, flooding his lines with liquid flame. He shuttered his optics rapidly as he tried to clear his blurred vision.

:Chromia’s got it cleared, Wheeljack. Are you okay?:

With the affirmation that the halls would be empty, Wheeljack lengthened his strides. Starscream’s gaze was fixed on him, dazed and dim. The scientist couldn’t get himself to look down at the seeker as he answered the comm. :Yeah, it’s just gettin’ to me. Star’s the one I’m worried about.:

:Does he need a medic?:

Wheeljack shouldered open another door, careful of hitting Starscream’s wings on the doorframe. :Probably. He won’t see one though.:

Wheeljack was surprised when Windblade didn't ask why. :Okay. Do you need anything? I can bring it down.:

Wheeljack would have to thank the Camien later. :Energon later. All medical grade.: Wheeljack hesitated. :Not for a while though. Next cycle.:

Windblade commed back almost immediately. :Alright, Wheeljack. Don’t worry about things out here. We’ve got you both covered.:

The door to Wheeljack’s quarters came into view. :Thanks, Windblade. We’re at my quarters.:

:Not a problem. Good luck.:

With one hand, Wheeljack keyed into his quarters. Quickly, the white mech slipped inside, the seeker still balanced in his arms.

“Hurry- W-Wheel-“

Wheeljack strode through his open berthroom door. “I’ve got you, Star.”

Ever cautious of jostling his cargo, the scientist lay the seeker on the berth amid the soft covers. He took a moment to marvel at the sight Starscream made in his berth, surrounded by plush softness. Primus, the jet was a sight, writhing in the throes of his heat while the coding called for Wheeljack to sate it.

Wheeljack stroked a finger along Starscream’s wing and watched as the appendage fluttered upward. A high keen escaped from Starscream as the finest sensors in his entire body lit under the ex-Wrecker’s touch. Unable to hold back any longer, Wheeljack dipped his helm to claim the beautiful seeker in his berth.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extra long chapter y'all. I couldn't resist giving Star all the love :)

Starscream had been cold constructed. He’d never been doted on by creators, had never been shown any kindness without an ulterior motive. Thundercracker and Skywarp had been the closest thing he’d ever had to a home, to safety. But even they had left him, just like Megatron did when he had gotten tired of the jet.

As Wheeljack’s mouth ventured from Starscream’s own down to his delicate neck cables, the seeker tensed, ready for the pain he knew was coming. Megatron’s fangs had torn into his neck more than once, causing energon to bubble up and run across the warlord’s glossa as he took the smaller mech. Even his trine had done it once or twice, marking him as one of their own. Starscream had marked them in return during their heats as well, but only rarely. Megatron had never allowed Starscream to mark him back in such a way.

So the wet heat of Wheeljack’s glossa laving at his cables took Starscream off guard and, seeming to sense his unease, the scientist leaned back far enough to meet his optics. Starscream saw the question there in Wheeljack’s field, but he was unable to vocalize his fears. He doubted that the mustang would understand the act of marking anyway as it had originated from the gladiatorial pits that Megatron had called home. Looking back, it was barbaric and unnecessary. No mech could own another as far as the Autobots had been concerned. Wheeljack couldn’t know about the implications of marking.

Wheeljack bent low over the seeker’s throat, nuzzling at the tensed cords. The gentle licking was occasionally interspersed with little sucking kisses that trialed from Starscream’s jaw all the way down to his collar. Not once did he feel Wheeljack’s denta graze him and the seeker soon found himself growing dizzy under the treatment. He sighed through his vents as the last of his reservations took flight.

Starscream nearly whined in disappointment when Wheeljack moved away from him but he managed to curb the sound as he realized where Wheeljack was headed. Starscream watched as Wheeljack shifted his way down his frame, nudging his legs apart as he went. Soon, the scientist was settled between them, kneeling on the floor at the edge of the berth.

The speedster fixed intense blue optics on Starscream then. The jet swore that the heat in his array doubled in intensity under the look Wheeljack gave him as he leaned his helm forward. Slowly, the white mech dragged his glossa up the front of Starscream’s closed interface panel. This time, Starscream couldn’t suppress the keen he released at the cool sensation of Wheeljack’s oral lubricants on his scorching armor. Another lick followed and Wheeljack never once took his gaze off of Starscream’s own.

The scientist blinked slowly and when he spoke his voice was rough with arousal. “Open for me?”

Starscream struggled to find the command that would open his array. It was getting harder to think as the heat began it’s now familiar torture of his protoform. Eventually, he gave up. “Can’t find-? Open?” Even words were becoming hard to form.

The lust in Wheeljack’s field was eclipsed momentarily by concern. The scientist’s optics cleared from the their heated state as he looked at Starscream. “Ratchet said your fine circuitry might be damaged by the heat. That must be why you’re havin’ trouble.”

The seeker managed a half-sparked snarl at the scientist still between his legs. “Don’t mention- Ratch-et. Mood k-killer.”

The speedster had the actual nerve to smirk. “Glad to see your shining personality ain’t affected.” 

Starscream made to hiss at him but was cut off before he could do so as another wave of intense pain in his array stole the words from his vocalizer. Wheeljack must’ve seen the pain reflected on his face. The next moment, Starscream’s interface panel had been manually triggered open. The room’s cooler air washed over his boiling array, drawing a choked sound from the seeker. 

The world around him seemed to spin as Wheeljack dragged his tongue across the seeker’s engorged valve lips. Unlike the trigger for his array cover, Starscream had no trouble accessing the sensors connected to his valve. He felt everything as Wheeljack’s talented mouth suckled on his swollen folds then moved to swirl his glossa around the array’s irritated anterior node. The seeker abruptly realized that he’d forgotten to ventilate when Wheeljack pressed his tongue as deep as it would go into his valve, stimulating the blazing rows of biolights inside the tight channel. Starscream gulped a desperate breath through his mouth, desperate to cool down the inferno within his chassis.

Megaetron had never offered to touch him so intimately. The warlord had always insisted that the seeker suck his spike. He had never given Starscream pleasure with his mouth. Neither had Thundercrakcer and Skywarp.

Starscream stared at the ceiling without seeing it, completely lost in the sensations. Part of him felt scandalized, having never been on the receiving end pf such pleasure. Wheeljack was devouring his valve like a mech starved. The ex-Wrecker’s black hands gripped his hips to keep the red mech in place as he pressed his face into Starscream’s dripping valve. The flight frame couldn’t help but notice how those heavily-scarred fingers easily encircled his slender waist, holding him still without any intention of injuring him. 

The sight was so erotic that the seeker almost overloaded. He likely would have if another spike of agony hadn’t twisted in his gestation tank. The seeker released a low groan of pain and Wheeljack pulled away from his messy valve. The sight of his own fluids smeared across the lower half of the white mech’s face quickly rebuilt the desire lost in the brief flash of discomfort. Wheeljack swept his glossa across his lubricant-painted lip plates. “Star?”

Starscream vented heavily, laboring to draw enough cool air in through his vents. “H-hurts.”

“This does?”

“No. Inside.”

Wheeljack nodded in understanding. Foreplay was nice, sure. But Starscream’s heat coding had no interest in whether he enjoyed the interfacing or not.

The scientist stood from his place at the edge of the berth and Starscream saw that he had released his spike. It bobbed as Wheeljack moved, standing proudly from where it had pressurized out of its housing. It appeared to be heavily ribbed and well proportioned to Wheeljack’s size. Starscream watched as a row of tiny biolights flickered where they ran up each side of the heavy silver spike, pulsating in blue flashes that matched Wheeljack’s optics. The jet felt his mouth lubricate at the sight and he swallowed thickly.

Starscream felt a strange mix of nervous fear and hot desire at the sight of the spike. The emotions must have leaked into his field, for Wheeljack paused his movement where he was kissing up Starscream’s chassis. Again, the ex-Wrecker was visibly fighting the heat coding, all so he could give Starscream a chance to change his mind. Starscream nodded and Wheeljack bowed his helm to lick up the side of Starscream’s throat to his audial. The white mech pressed his nasal bridge against the side of the seeker’s helm and exvented heavily through his intake. The feeling of moist heat against the side of his helm nearly pushed Starscream over the edge again.

The heat coding was designed to prepare the seeker’s body for immediate satisfaction. As a result, Starscream’s valve offered little resistance as Wheeljack brushed the head of his spike against the jet’s entrance. Using his hand, the scientist guided the tip into the welcoming heat of the sopping valve and both mech’s gasped at the sensation. Starscream turned his face toward Wheeljack, blindly rooting to find the scientist’s mouth. “’Jack- _please-_ “

Wheeljack pressed his mouth against the seeker’s. The scientist lightly sucked on Starscream’s trembling lower lip before nosing his helm back to where he would murmur into Starscream’s audial. “Hold onto me.”

Without argument, Starscream lifted his hands from where he’d had them bunched in the sheets to grip Wheeljack’s around the neck. The white mech was faintly aware of deadly talons digging into his shoulder plating as the mech under him squirmed, trying to impale himself further on the spike. Wheeljack released a grunt against Starscream audial as he finally hilted himself with one smooth movement of his hips.

The seeker’s valve clenched around the intrusion, barely giving Wheeljack a moment to adjust before the calipers began milking his spike. The feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced. Then again, he had never spiked a mech in heat.

Wheeljack had also never interfaced a flight frame. The moment the speedster’s hips met the other mech’s, filling him completely, Starscream’s wings had jerked upward violently on the berth. Wheeljack barely registered it as the sheets of his berth were torn under the jet’s dancing wings. As Starscream’s valve continued to grip insistently at his spike, Wheeljack realized that he couldn’t have cared less about the covers.

It was immediately obvious that Starscream hadn’t interfaced in a very long time. Even though the coding had allowed his valve to loosen without any preparation,  
Wheeljack felt the calipers fighting to adjust around his girth. The scientist gave an experimental twitch of his hips. In response, the seeker’s thighs squeezed at his waist as Starscream’s vocalizer sounded a high fluttering purr. Wheeljack, even having never interfaced with a seeker, recognized the sound and the pattern of the dancing wings for what they were. 

The heat coding was reading Wheeljack, finding him to be an acceptable mate. Soon, the heat that ravaged Starscream already weakened frame would retreat to a more manageable level. As it was, the temperature of Starscream’s chassis was almost too hot for Wheeljack to comfortably touch.

Starscream seemed to retreat into his helm as the heat coding overtook his processor. His optics were listless and dull again when Wheeljack moved to look down at him. The scientist had to curb the panic that rose in his spark at the sight of the mech that was usually so sharp being reduced to such a helpless state by the heat coding. Wheeljack knew that it was just part of the infamous heat coding that seekers faced. He began to truly understand the protection that trines could provide when one of their own was so vulnerable. 

Anger briefly flared within him as Wheeljack remembered how Megatron had tossed the defenseless seeker to the ranks. In such a state, Starscream wouldn’t have had a chance against them. The scientist forced down his raging emotions and refocused his full attention on the present. He wouldn’t waste this opportunity Starcsream had given him.

Wheeljack kept himself still as he fought the urge to mindlessly rut into the sweet ecstasy that was Starscream’s valve. He watched as the seeker’s body seized up and felt the talons on Starscream’s hands dig deeper into the armor on his back. Wheeljack felt the cool sensation of energon running under his plating as the talons nicked on of his lines.

It may have been mere kliks or several cycles before the seeker began to come back to himself. Wheeljack hugged the red mech to himself and felt Starscream’s valve clench around his spike with renewed force. Starscream’s body was gradually released from its tense state to fall limp on the berth. His ruby optics cleared from the haze they’d descended into. “W-Wheeljack?”

The ex-Wrecker’s cracked lip plates turned upward in a smile. The seeker blinked lazily up at him and surprised Wheeljack with a lopsided, drunken smile of his own. Though he would never admit it, the scientist felt something for the seeker in that moment that had nothing to do with the heat coding consuming them both.

The ache in Starscream’s gestation tank told him that the heat was far from over. Everything was still confusing and spinning, likely a side effect of the damage his body had taken. Weakly, the seeker allowed his wings to jitter briefly before they fell still, too spent to move. Above him, the white mech regarded him carefully, noting the disjointed way that the jet’s systems were reacting to his most basic commands. 

A particularly insistent clench of Starscream’s seeping valve wiped the look of concentration from Wheeljack’s face. The white mech gave a single involuntary jerk of his hips before refocusing his gaze back on the red mech. “Starscream, can I-?”

“You s-slagging better.”

With a shaking slide, Wheeljack pulled his hips back before pitching them forward again. The white mech’s body shuddered. “Oh, Star- _Primus-_ ”

After a few stuttering movements, Wheeljack fell into a smooth rhythm, dragging the natural ribs of his spike against the deepest nodes in Starscream’s valve. Unable to focus on anything accept the warm valve hugging his spike, Wheeljack buried his face against Starscream’s neck. He knew already that he wouldn’t last long.

If Starscream knew anything about fragging, he knew that this wasn’t it. This was something beautiful, something that bordered on holy. If the jet had ever doubted the existence of Primus, he certainly wasn’t denying it now. 

The jet’s spinal strut arched upward to press flush against Wheeljack. Starscream felt one of the scientist’s big hands move to support his arching frame, splaying his fingers across the seeker’s lower back as Wheeljack thrusted into him at a new angle. The feeling blossoming in the flight frame’s spark was divine as he rewarded the white mech with a loud cry. 

Even as Wheeljack’s pleasure built, he kept his movements slow, making sure to press his spike deep with every thrust. He had no intention of stealing pleasure for himself. But Starscream’s soft cries of pleasure were affecting him and soon he wouldn’t be able to deny the tight, hot feeling gathering low in his belly. Wheeljack, careful to keep his denta covered, peppered Starscream’s neck with wet kisses. “Come for me, Star. Wanna feel you come around me-“

The lust-filled words almost did Starscream in. He tilted his helm back, exposing the innermost cords of his throat to Wheeljack. The seeker realized then that the mustang’s mouth would easily locate the old, warped scars left by Megatron’s unforgiving fangs. As if it were a switch, the thought momentarily shut him down.

As if hearing his thoughts, Wheeljack licked and kissed at the ruined fuel lines. His voice was gentle as he breathed over the old scars. “Relax. What happened then has no place here.”

When had Wheeljack become so wise? So attentive to his insecurities? Starscream barely had time to consider such things as he felt his overload abruptly approaching.  
“I- I’m gonna- oh~” Starscream felt his body tense as his pleasure began to crest. He felt his mouth form Wheeljack’s name as his valve cycled down hard around the white mech’s spike. Starscream felt a warm field and hands protectively holding him as his body locked up. “W-Wheeljack-“

A calm voice, thick with wonder and shared pleasure, whispered softly against the side of his helm. “I’ve got you, Star. Let it happen. I’ll catch you.”

Starscream jerked once, twice. He gasped a breath through his mouth, optics rolling upward as he let himself fall completely for the first time since he came online.

The joy that rippled through Starscream’s field drew Wheeljack into his own overload. He drove his spike deep and felt the pointed tip breach the jet’s gestation tank as he came. Lights exploded behind his optics as his hips pressed forward, firmly hilting him into Starscream’s valve. Hot spurts of transfluid erupted from his spike as it twitched and Starscream’s calipers squeezed around the organ, drawing every last drop from Wheeljack’s reserves. 

The speedster inhaled deeply through his vents, relishing in the scent of the mech beneath him. A few more clenches of his transfluid chamber emptied Wheeljack utterly into the seeker’s thirsty gestation tank. Slowly, Starscream’s calipers relaxed from their desperate spasms and released Wheeljack’s spike from their hold.

Wheeljack pulled back slightly to watch the seeker recover from the last waves of his overload. Oral lubricant glistened on Starscream’s slack lip plates as a wavering moan broke from his vocalizer. The seeker’s optics rolled in his helm momentarily before finally finding Wheeljack. Starscream’s mouth fumbled momentarily before forming words. “Stay?”

As if Wheeljack could leave him in such a state. Starscream was likely too weak to clean himself up. The fact that Starscream expected Wheeljack to leave him while he was still so vulnerable shocked the scientist. He filed the revelation away for later processing.

The white mech nodded before planting a chaste kiss on the jet’s forehelm. Wheeljack was surprised when Starscream didn’t fight the intimate gesture. Gently sliding his depressurized spike from Starcsream’s stretched valve, the scientist gathered the spent seeker against his chest. “As long as you want me to, Star. As long as you want me to.”


	12. Chapter 12

Within moments of Wheeljack telling Starscream that he would stay, the seeker fell into forced stasis. While he lay still and motionless, Wheeljack made himself to move and go about cleaning up their mess. Whether the seeker was being strangely unguarded or not, Wheeljack doubted that Starscream would be overly happy to wake up covered in dried fluids later.

Going off of what Windblade had told him, Wheeljack expected Starscream’s heat coding to abate after another cycle or so. Swiping a clean cloth across his interface array and then closing the modesty panel over it, the scientist made his way out of the berthroom. Once there, he located and opened one of the datapads in his sitting area. Moments later, Wheeljack sent the order for more ingredients to make more of Perceptor’s “faux fluid.” He closed the order and went about gathering fresh blankets for his berth.

When he returned to his berthroom, arms filled with his softest covers, Wheeljack paused a moment to regard the mech before him. Starscream, in the scientist’s brief absence, had stretched his wings to take up the entire berth. The white mech studied the seeker’s frame, fixing his gaze on the numerous white paint transfers that decorated Starscream’s inner thighs. He couldn’t stop the tingle of satisfaction that he felt at the memory of putting them there, of putting the handsome flight frame in the relaxed state he was in now.

Wheeljack moved to the berthside quietly and began to diligently clean the fluids from Starscream’s unresponsive chassis. The scientist doused towels in solvent from his private washroom and went about bathing what he could reach of the seeker’s frame. Once satisfied that he’d done all he could do, Wheeljack moved to clean the berth itself.

Next, Wheeljack maneuvered the soiled sheets out from under Starscream. Instead of trying to remake the berth in its entirety, the ex-Wrecker simply swathed the unconscious mech in the fresh sheets, wrapping them around Starscream’s frame until only his face and wings could be seen. Wheeljack was careful to leave the blankets loose so that the jet wouldn’t feel trapped when he came back online.

Upon completing his handiwork, Wheeljack quirked an optical ridge at the seeker’s splayed wings as they took up the entire berth. Rather than move them aside and risk waking Starscream, the scientist resigned himself to recharging on the couch in his living area. 

Wheeljack also didn’t want the seeker to feel his close proximity and panic at having another bot so close to him in a berth. Based on Starscream’s earlier disorientation, the white mech decided it would be better if he didn’t push his luck with the seeker. From the couch, the scientist would be able to hear Starscream when he came back online without crowding the red mech as he did. 

Hauling one of the more coarse blankets about himself, the speedster retreated to the couch. On his way, he opened a comm. to Windblade. :Whenever is good for you, we’re ready for that medical grade.:

Her reply was almost instant. :How is he?:

Wheeljack’s hands fumbled tiredly as he set about making himself a nest on the couch. :Well as to be expected. He’s gonna need a medic after this is over, whether he wants one or not.:

:What’s wrong with him? I’m bringing you some medical grade now.:

Wheeljack forwarded her the key to his quarters as he commed back. :Pretty sure he’s got some circuitry damage. It’s affecting his movement pretty bad.:

:Wheeljack… did you…?:

The ex-Wrecker sighed as he settled himself down into the nest of blankets he’d fashioned. :Yes. I did.:

:Oh. Well then.:

:What?:

There was a long pause before Windblade’s next comm. :I’m outside. Good to come in?:

Upon giving her the go ahead, Wheeljack heard the door beep a correct key code and the door slide open. Windblade stepped cautiously inside, glancing around like she expected to be attacked. Wheeljack smirked at her from the couch. “He ain’t gonna get you, he’s in recharge.”

The femme bulked for a moment or two longer before making her way across the room to him. Wheeljack noted the still wary tilt to her helm as Windblade approached him. Reaching into her subspace, she pulled a cup of midgrade energon out and extended it to the scientist. “Thought you could use some fuel too.” She watched as Wheeljack went about sitting up and tearing the lid from the cup. As he gulped it down quickly, she spoke again, settling herself beside him on the couch. “So you ‘faced him then?”

Wheeljack dispersed the empty cube and savored the feeling as the fuel entered his lines before he spoke. “I had to. We were out of the ingredients for the transfluid mixture and he wouldn’t see a medic.”

The Camien considered him for a moment. “Oh I see.”

The scientist fixed her with a look and lowered the cube for a moment. “What’s got your wings twisted?”

Windblade’s wing tips flicked with a mix of annoyance and hestitation at being called out. “Just didn’t expect you to ‘face him.” She pursed her lip plates as if trying to suppress a smile. “Looks like a owe Chromia her shanix.”

The implication struck Wheeljack a klik later. He nearly spewed his mouthful of energon when it hit him. “It’s not like that-“

The Camien side-eyed him. “Isn’t it? It's obvious you care about him.”

Wheeljack snorted. She was in rare form today. “No. No, it was just to satisfy his heat coding. I’ve already ordered more of the ingredients for the 'faux fluid.' It’ll get here by next cycle.”

As much as Wheeljack had enjoyed pleasuring the jet, he couldn’t allow himself to expect a relationship with Starscream. Though Wheeljack had finally admitted to himself that he felt something more for the jet and that he had felt that way for some time, the scientist knew that Starscream would likely brush off this entire ordeal as being a product of the heat. Wheeljack was confident that the seeker would thank him for ordering more ingredients for the “faux fluid” when he woke later.

“You don’t plan on ‘facing him again then?”

“No. Windblade, he…” Wheeljack struggled to explain exactly why. Starscram’s past abuse wasn’t for him to tell. Wheeljack understood that the traumas the seeker  
had faced when it came to interfacing. As a result, the white mech was certain that the jet would much rather avoid interfacing again if he was able. Though Starscream appeared to have enjoyed himself, Wheeljack decided that he would rather give the seeker the option and have the engineered transfuild ready.

The Camien nodded, seeming to understand without Wheeljack telling her. Her next words confirmed it. “His past.” At the speedster’s confused expression, she explained. “When it first started, he attacked me. I wasn’t sure what was going on then, but I figured it out quickly enough. It wasn't hard to see that he was terrified.” Her brow furrowed. “Starscream was just defending himself. Like he thought I was going to…“

Wheeljack reached to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder plating. Her optics were sad when she lifted her gaze form the floor to look at him. Of all bots, Wheeljack hadn’t expected the femme to feel such strong sympathy for the jet in the next room.

They stayed silent for a few kliks before Windblade unsubspaced the rest of the energon she’d brought. Wheeljack was pleased to find that she’d selected a mixture of medical grade and midgrade so that Wheeljack would be able to stay in his quarters with the seeker as opposed to going out to refuel. She organized the cubes on the low table in front of the couch. “You’ve got my comm. I’ll bring the ingredients to you as soon as they get here. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Wheeljack smiled at her before realizing that he’d put his battle mask back in place before her arrival. “Yeah. Thanks again, Windblade.”

The femme departed soon after and Wheeljack nestled down against the couch cushions as his door beeped that it was locked. It was becoming increasingly hard to keep his optics open. The scientist knew that soon he would have to go check on the seeker and decided to grab some recharge while he could. When Starscream onlined, Wheeljack would have to try and get him to take some of the medical grade. Until then, the scientist curled up in the couch and allowed his systems to power down.

What he didn’t realize was that Starscream had been awake the whole time and that he had heard everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm evil.


	13. Chapter 13

He was fool, plain and simple.

What had made him think Wheeljack actually cared for him? After all, the mech had no reason to. Starscream had heard the ex-Wrecker say it himself.

No one would willingly interface with a mech who had a past like Starscream’s. No mech in his right processor would have said those deliciously sweet nothings to somebot like him. 

The jet wiggled in his cocoon of blankets. Wheeljack had left him just enough slack to comfortably shift around without feeling trapped. The jet felt like some kind of Earth-butterfly, carefully encased in the soft cradle of warm safety. 

But Starscream knew that he was no butterfly. He would not be beautiful when he got out of the berth. The red seeker knew that when he emerged from the confines of the blankets, he would be just as hideously damaged as he was before being wrapped in them.

Wheeljack didn’t want him. He’d made that much clear in his conversation with Windblade. The ghost of the scientist’s mouth murmuring in his audial lingered on Starscream’s plating. The feeling of protection that Wheeljack had given him suddenly felt hollow, just as the words spoken at the height of Starscream’s overload no longer held any meaning. It all had meant nothing to the speedster, that much was obvious.

The jet allowed the feeling of betrayal to sting for a moment before shoving it to the back of his processor. He had far more important things to do. One of them was getting out of and far away from Wheeljack’s berth. Lingering on the scientist wouldn’t help, just as trying to decipher Megatron hadn’t helped him avoid torment back during the war.

Starscream’s hands felt heavy as he fought to free himself. Even though the covers were loosely gathered around him, his frame didn’t seem to be cooperating with him.

If Wheeljack’s words hadn’t been enough, his actions definitely had been. The scientist had said he wouldn’t leave, but as soon as Starscream had fallen into recharge, Wheeljack had abandoned him for the couch. The jet might not have been very up-to-date on interfacing habits, but he did know enough to understand that he should be very embarrassed to have been left immediately after it was over. 

Again, Starscream forced the feeling of self-pity away like he always did. For some reason, it was getting harder and harder to ignore.

The jet shivered as the cooler air of the berthroom hit one of his newly freed hands. His plating was still warm, but no longer ravaged by the heat coding. Starscream knew that it was only a short reprieve and that the heat wasn’t over. He had to move quickly before it struck him again.

Clearly, Wheeljack would rather be rid of him. The seeker spat to himself as he finally succeeded in getting himself upright. It wasn’t like him to take it so personally. “I’ll just relieve him of the trouble then.” He didn’t need to stay where he was unwanted a moment longer.  
Perhaps it was because it was Wheeljack. He had always been the one mech Starscream made an effort to never lie too. It was becoming more clear how wrong the seeker had been. After all, Wheeljack had whispered lies to him, had touched him in ways no one had ever bothered to touch him, only to toss it all away. Like Starscream was a charity case or something that Wheeljack would fix in his lab.

Starscream had misread their relationship. Badly.

Slowly so as to keep his balance, the weakened mech turned himself to rest his peds on the floor. As he moved, Starscream felt his gestation tank slosh. He couldn’t decide if the sensation was pleasant or repulsive as he pushed himself to stand. The last time he’d felt this way-

Starscream stumbled, feeling like he was going to purge. His tanks clenched violently and another wave of dizzy confusion washed over him. The jet felt oral lubricant gather in his mouth, but even as his fuel tank twisted, nothing came up. Warnings blared on his HUD, telling him he was dangerously close to empty. Starscream silenced them. He’d survived worse.

He splayed a hand against the wall to steady himself when something caught his optic.

The seeker stared, not comprehending what he was seeing at first. Soon, he recognized the dirtied berth covers balled up against the wall, obviously set aside to be cleaned later. Starscream studied them for a few moments before registering that they had been largely reduced to shredded rags. Worse, they looked to be of the more expensive variety, at least in the case of a mech who worked in a lab. It was likely that Wheeljack had saved up a long while to purchase such fine covers for himself.

“Should’ve taken me to my quarters like I asked.” The seeker continued muttering to himself as he used the wall for support, making his way toward the berthroom door. It was Wheeljack’s own fault that his covers had been ruined. No matter how Starscream rationalized it though, he couldn’t deny that the sheets had been ruined by his own wings and talons.

Spitting with frustration, he continued his journey to the door. His peds dragged on the floor and he tried to pick them up higher in order to avoid scuffing the floor. Usually, he wouldn’t have cared-

“You’ve got it all wrong, Starscream.”

Well, look who decided to show up. The jet bared his fangs in agitation as he looked up to find Bumblebee standing before him. “Oh, have I? It seems rather clear what’s going on.”

The yellow scout shook his helm, appearing exasperated. “Why don’t you give him a chance to explain-“

“He doesn’t need to explain!” The jet calmed himself before continuing in a lower voice. “You heard what he said to Windblade. I see no reason to stay where I’m not welcome.”

Bumblebee rolled his optics. “That's unlike you. Usually you don’t care what anyone thinks or wants.”

Starscream hissed in answer and focused on moving toward the door again. Bumblebee appeared in front of him, blocking his path. When the jet looked at him, the yellow mech no longer held the usual look of disapproval that he always seemed to regard Starscream with. Instead, his gaze was soft. If the mech had been solid, the seeker would’ve clawed the look right off of his face. 

“Starscream, listen to me. Wheeljack doesn’t think less of you for what happened during the war. He’s not like that. Plus, it’s obvious that you care for him, at least to some level.” He paused until Starscream lifted his helm to look at the scout again. “That’s why you’re trying to leave. You care about what he thinks of you.”

Starscream felt a phantom hand rest on his own, still pressed against the wall. The Autobot was right, slag him to the Pit. Primus, he hated having the little yellow terror in his helm. “So what if I do care? It’s better if I go. I can’t give him what he wants-”

“How are you so sure about what he wants? You’re trying to leave without giving him a chance.”

Standing still without moving was becoming more difficult as time went on. The creeping dissociation from earlier was beginning to swamp Starscream’s senses again and he staggered slightly, leaning heavily on the wall. Bumblebee reached to stabilize him, but, remembering that he couldn’t touch the jet, he retracted his hands. The seeker saw the scout’s hands move and shrank away from being touched.

The sudden movement drained the last of his strength. Starscream collapsed into a heap on the berthroom floor, tanks roiling as his equilibrium was thrown off. His helm wobbled and he found that he was unable to hold it upright. Hopeless to slow his descent, the seeker’s face slammed into the wall on his way down. Starscream tasted fresh energon on his glossa and forced down the impulse to purge his tanks again.

New warnings flashed across his HUD, momentarily blinding him as they detailed the failing state of his body.

Starscream had wanted to die before. After the ordeal that was his last heat, he’d prayed to Primus that something, anything would end him. Every time Megatron had left him shaking and torn, smeared with energon and transfluid, a part of the seeker had craved the nothingness that death would allow.

But there on the berthroom floor, Starscream knew that he didn’t want to die. Distantly, he felt his limbs and wings spasming and he wanted to cry with how unfair it was. After experiencing the joy he’d felt with Wheeljack, Primus was finally answering the darkest wish of his past life.

Releasing a sigh through his vents, Starscream allowed the darkness to take him. His last thought, strangely, was of butterfly wings.


	14. Chapter 14

Awareness came back to him slowly, so slowly that Starscream felt every pain receptor awaken one by one. Everything seemed to hurt, his face worst of all. It was a klik or two more before he figured out why.

He was laying on it.

Starscream forced his arms beneath himself and summoned just enough energy that he could roll onto his side. One of his wings caught awkwardly against the wall as he did, but he didn’t care. Feeling sick, the seeker curled in on himself, ignoring again the warnings that crowded his HUD.

Part of him was disappointed that he hadn’t offlined permanently. Another part of him was proud that he’d survived yet another of life’s long list of attempts to end his spark. Mostly though, he was embarrassed out of his processor.

It was gradually becoming clear that no matter how much he wanted to be away from Wheeljack, he wouldn’t be able to escape without help. A shot of self-loathing darted through him and he kicked out a ped in frustration. It connected to the wall with a dull thud and he winced, remembering then that the scientist was recharging on the other side of the wall.

“So. What now?”

The seeker didn’t spare the yellow Autobot a glance. Instead, he flailed half-heartedly, trying to at least sit against the wall. Lord Starscream wouldn’t be caught lying in the middle of the floor.

Out the corner of his optic, he saw Bumblebee sigh. “Just let him help you, Starscream.”

“I’m not a sparkling to be coddled.”

“Didn’t say you were. But you’re acting like one.”

“Frag off! You’re not even real! You-”

When Starscream finally turned to yell at the scout head on, he found nothing there but empty space. Growling, the seeker continued trying to get his rapidly warming body to cooperate.

He didn’t notice the mech in the doorway until Wheeljack spoke. “Goin’ somewhere?”

Starscream jumped, recovering as quickly as he could before glaring up at the scientist. “That doesn’t concern you.”

Something flickered on Wheeljack’s face, but it was gone before Starscream could decipher it. “You should refuel. Windblade brought some medical grade up.” 

“Oh, I’m well aware she did.” The jet watched as the white mech cast his gaze away, as if trying to look at anything but the red mech on his floor. Starscream had to admit it, refueling would be nice. “I don’t need fuel.”

Wheeljack struggled to suppress an optic roll before he knelt down to the seeker’s level. “Well, you’re not leavin’ til you take a cube.”

“Who says?”

“The mech who can stand up.”

Starscream wanted nothing more than to get away from the gentle teasing in Wheeljack’s field. He hated depending on others, he’d spent his entire life ensuring that he would never have to. One little heat cycle had ruined that and reduced him to a pathetic spectacle for Wheeljack to tell everyone about later on. He’d only gotten the tale end of the conversation between the scientist and that treacherous femme. Who knew what else Wheeljack had told her? Likely that he was a helpless, wanton-

A hand moving toward him caught his attention. “Don’t slagging touch me!”

Wheeljack retracted his hand quickly, optics flaring wide. “Uh… Star?”

The jet snorted nastily and folded his arms tightly around himself. “You know I hate nicknames!”

The scientist regarded him quizzically, cocking his helm as he stared at Starscream. Like he was some kind of organic anomaly to be studied in the mustang’s lab.  
Slowly, Wheeljack maneuvered himself to sit against the wall too. He was careful to keep an arm’s length between himself and the seeker. “Talk to me. You’re doing it.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Wheeljack stretched out his legs and Starscream forced himself to look away from the long, powerful limbs. “You’re bein’ defensive. What happened?” The scientist reached out with his field, cautiously. “Why were you tryin’ to leave?”

Starscream lashed out at the intruding field with his own, driving it back with a barrage of angry betrayal. “Don’t patronize me, Autobot! I heard what you said to that nosy Camien!"

Another tilt from Wheeljack’s helm. “You heard us talking?”

“Yes, I did!” Starscream was getting fired up quickly, spurred on by the steadily growing inferno in his chassis. The heat coding was returning far faster now, sensing the presence of the mech an arm’s length away. The mech who had satisfied said coding not too long earlier.

The jet’s optics were ablaze as he ranted. “I don’t need your help! I want to go to my quarters and I want you to never meant this to anyone! It’s bad enough that that femme knows everything about me now-“

“Her name is Windblade.”

“ _Excuse me? _”__

__Wheeljack’s voice was firm when he spoke, bordering on the edge of real annoyance. There was no more teasing in his field. The seeker was glad, it would make Wheeljack’s betrayal hurt less if the scientist were rude right back to him. “You heard me, Starscream. Her name is Windblade and she brought you medical grade. Which you’ll be takin’ now, before the heat returns.”_ _

__Starscream’s mouth flopped a few times, but not a sound came out. Had Wheeljack not heard a word he said? Before he could form a retort, Wheeljack was on his peds and making his way back out of the room._ _

__The seeker stewed until Wheeljack returned a few kliks later. In his fingers was balanced a cube of the notoriously bitter medical grade. Starscream sniffed when he noticed the cloth in Wheeljack’s other hand. “What’s that for?”_ _

__Wheeljack followed his gesture to the rag. “Well, I reckon you’re gonna try and refuel yourself. You’re shaken pretty bad, so chances are you’re gonna spill it all over yourself. Then you’ll-“_ _

__“Why do you insist on being-“ Pain jolted through Starscream’s lower body, sudden and unrelenting as it carved a path along his sensory net. It was enough to stall his intakes and white out his vision._ _

__When the room came back into focus, Wheeljack’s field was no longer chastising. Starscream felt sick when saw the concern in the scientist’s optics. “Star-“  
“ _Starscream, _” the jet gritted out.___ _

____The mustang rolled his optics again. “Starscream, let me help you. I know you wanna leave and the sooner you let me help you refuel, the sooner you can do that.” Wheeljack paused, considering. “But it’ll be to go see a medic. You can’t be alone without something to keep you from overheating.”_ _ _ _

____Starscream laughed. It was high pitched and hollow. “Why in the Pit do you care? You don’t want to help me, you ordered more of whatever it is to make more fake transfluid. Just send them to me when they arrive.”_ _ _ _

____“What gave you that impression?”_ _ _ _

____“What?”_ _ _ _

____Wheeljack held out the medical grade as he spoke. Starscream eyed the extended cube without moving. “The impression that I don’t wanna help you. I’m here aren’t I?”_ _ _ _

____“Don’t be obtuse.” The jet moved to shove the cube away. He’d get up eventually and find his own energon, hopefully something that tasted more agreeable for his sore tanks. “I’m surprised you weren’t in on Chromia and Windblade’s little bet-“_ _ _ _

____“Is that what this is about?” Wheeljack was reviewing his conversation with Windblade, rapidly opening the memory file and replaying it through his processor. The more he reviewed, the more Wheeljack realized that he’d left far too much unsaid. The seeker had filled in the blanks._ _ _ _

____The scientist lowered the cube, looking to be a mixture of stunned and enlightened. Starscream looked away. The ex-Wrecker dared to scoot a little closer to him. “Star, I didn’t know about that bet and it’s not why I ‘faced with you anyway.”_ _ _ _

____The jet was shaking more violently now and it wasn’t because of the heat coding. Wheeljack couldn’t read Starscream’s thrashing field through the mire of emotions that crowded it. The scientist lifted the cube again, slowly so as to not startle the seeker. Starscream glanced at the cube before muttering under his exvent. “Huh?”_ _ _ _

____“Help me. With the cube.”_ _ _ _

____Wheeljack smiled behind his battle mask and gently helped Starscream to wrap his hands around the cube. Then, he supported the bottom of it until the jet could lift it to his mouth. The white mech watched as the flight frame gulped heavily from the cube, revealing just how exhausted the seeker must’ve been for fuel. Though still open, Starscream’s optics glazed over as he drank and his body began to process the badly needed energon._ _ _ _

____Wheeljack helped him lower the cube and disperse it when it was empty. “I did it because I care. Not for any bet or to talk about it later.”_ _ _ _

____“I heard what you said to her.”_ _ _ _

____“What did you hear me say, exactly?”_ _ _ _

____Starscream’s helm lolled back against the wall. He looked drunk as his starved chassis began taking in the healing properties of the medical grade. “You said you wouldn’t interface me again. Because of my past.” The seeker grimaced, optics fixed on the ceiling._ _ _ _

____“Are you sure that’s exactly what you heard?” The revelation of Starscream’s inner thoughts and what he thought he’d heard made Wheeljack want to yell at the stubborn seeker. But even more than that, the scientist was angry with himself. How had he given Starscream such a terribly inaccurate idea? “I thought you wouldn’t want me to help that way a second time. After what happened-”_ _ _ _

____Some of the fire returned to Starscream’s face. “I know what I am, Wheeljack. I know what you must think of me. You don’t care and I was a free frag. I hope you’re happy.” Wheeljack’s optics continued to widen as the jet continued. “I get it though. Everyone wants something don’t they? Maybe it’s a favor, or a frag, or position security. But underneath it all? Really, who would stay with a mech like me?”_ _ _ _

____Starscream began to have trouble speaking and impatiently cleared his vocalizer. Now was not the time or the place to finally surface his insecurities. In the time that it took Starscream to reboot his vocalizer, Wheeljack retracted his mask._ _ _ _

____The jet stared. Distantly, he remembered the feeling of those lips caressing his face, his audial, his throat, everywhere that they could possibly reach. Starscream remembered those lips worshiping his heat-sensitive array, drawing the sweetest of sounds from his vocalizer. What Starscream didn’t remember was what they’d looked like._ _ _ _

____Wheeljack felt more than self-conscious as the seeker stared at his ruined face. He had spent more time than he cared to remember turning this way and that in front of the mirror, trying to tell himself that it wasn’t that bad. He’d tried to convinced himself that he didn’t need the battle mask, but every time he had closed it in shame before leaving his quarters. As the seeker continued to lean forward and inspect the scars, Wheeljack coughed to clear his intake. “Whether you believe me or not, I didn’t help you for bragging rights and I didn’t do it because I felt I had to. I did it because I care about you. Whether you’d call me a friend or not is up to you, but I want you to know that you can trust me.”_ _ _ _

____Wheeljack wasn’t sure what he expected. He certainly didn’t expect the handsome seeker to lean across the distance and brush tentative lip plates across his scarred ones. The scientist froze, unable to move as Starscream’s mouth explored the warped plating of his face. A gentle nip from the jet caught Wheeljack’s lower lip between sharp fangs and the white mech suppressed a shiver as the feeling sent a bolt of arousal straight to his array._ _ _ _

____Starscream leaned back abruptly. “Now we’re even.”_ _ _ _

____Wheeljack blinked rapidly, trying to clear the buzzing in his helm. The seeker’s optics were still uncertain as he pulled away to sit back against the wall again. The scientist decided to remedy that. He pressed forward, following the seeker and intent on kissing the doubt from Starscream’s processor. Wheeljack moved quickly to brace his hands against the wall on either side of the jet’s helm._ _ _ _

____He just barely managed to stop himself. “Star?”_ _ _ _

____The red mech’s optics were round and clear. “Yeah?”_ _ _ _

____“Can I kiss ya?”_ _ _ _

____Starscream’s mouth quirked up on one side, but it held a hint of genuine quality that Wheeljack had ever seen before. His field was still tight against him, wavering tentatively. “Well, I guess so, you’re already here.”_ _ _ _

____Again, Wheeljack held himself back. “Starscream.”_ _ _ _

____His field drew back again, noticeably trying to withdraw completely. The seeker levelled his gaze at the scientist. “What?”_ _ _ _

____Wheeljack reached out with his own field and allowed it to wash over the other mech’s frame in waves of peaceful reassurance. As he did it, the ex-Wrecker became even more aware of the heat beginning to seep from Starscream’s transformation seams. “I can’t change what happened to you. I can’t ask you to forget it or to try to forget. All I ask is that you let me help you and, when this is over, we go from there.”_ _ _ _

____“Wheeljack, I know-“_ _ _ _

____“I didn’t think you’d want to interface again. That’s why I ordered the ingredients. I left you to recharge alone because I didn’t want to wake you up. Primus knows you needed the rest.”_ _ _ _

____“But, Windblade-“_ _ _ _

____“-doesn’t need to know everything. So I didn’t tell her anything. Including why I chose to help you.”_ _ _ _

____Starscream was looking at the scientist with naked hope by then, his throat visibly working. He seemed to be fighting with himself. Wheeljack shifted backward so that his arms no longer caged the jet against the wall and almost immediately Starscream relaxed. The scientist made a mental note of it and shifted further away._ _ _ _

____He didn’t make it far before the jet was weakly scrambling forward and after him. When Wheeljack felt himself grabbed by a hand and harshly pulled back toward Starscream, he got a taste of just how touch starved the unusually docile seeker was._ _ _ _

____Wheeljack twisted his body just in time to avoid falling against the jet. Within a klik of the scientist hitting the wall, Starscream had buried his face in Wheeljack’s chest, talons digging possessively into the plating around his collar. Hesitating at first, Wheeljack eventually moved his hands to rest lightly on the seeker’s sleek waist. Starscream’s face departed his chest and he moved until his mouth was against Wheeljack’s audial. “You better be able to hug better than that or we’ll have a problem.”_ _ _ _

____With an awkward chuckle, Wheeljack folded his arms around Starscream. He felt unusually vulnerable himself as he sat on his berthroom floor and cuddled the often aggressive mech. His battle mask was still retracted, but the unfamiliar feeling of being completely exposed went deeper than the physical. He wasn’t sure when he’d last felt such a way._ _ _ _

____Starscream pressed a wet kiss to one of Wheeljack’s finials. “As wonderful as sitting on your berthroom floor is, can we-“_ _ _ _

____His gestation tank seemed to dance in his chassis when Starscream’s mouth touched the other mech. He took in a shallow breath, trying to keep his fans off for as long as possible. The scientist shifted against him and the drag of armor against armor made sparks explode behind Starscream’s optics. Wheeljack nuzzled against the side of Starscream’s helm. “The ingredients aren’t here yet.”_ _ _ _

____Starscream moved back far enough that he could brush his nasal ridge against the scientist’s. “I don’t care. I want to do this if you do.”_ _ _ _

____Wheeljack’s field coated the seeker in desire and reassurance. The speedster understood what the jet meant and pushed himself back and away from the red mech. When he received a confirming nod from Starscream, Wheeljack bent and scooped the flight frame into his arms. He’d hoped it would go smoothly, but ended up almost taking a swat to his optic from one of the seeker’s twitching wings._ _ _ _

____Taking advantage of the closeness, Wheeljack licked at the edge of the appendage. He watched it flutter as charge raced to where the scientist’s oral lubricant’s streaked the warm metal. “Shall we then?”_ _ _ _

____Starscream looped his arms around Wheeljack’s neck and pressed a kiss to the corner of the white mech’s mouth. For once, Wheeljack didn’t feel self-conscious by the scars. “Wheeljack.”_ _ _ _

____“Huh?”_ _ _ _

____“I trust you.”_ _ _ _

____Wheeljack paused and looked down at the seeker in his embrace. Starscream’s face was flushed slightly, likely both from the heat coding and nervous excitement that radiated from his field. Wheeljack grinned down at the seeker as he bent to kiss him back._ _ _ _


	15. Chapter 15

The moment Wheeljack rested the seeker onto the berth, Starscream’s entire body tensed. A flare of panic, though quickly tamped down, flooded his field. The scientist shifted back enough that he could look down at the seeker. “What can I do to make this easier for you?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

But when Wheeljack moved forward again, the same stiff field braced itself against him. He heard the seeker on the berth hiss a curse when he realized he’d leaked the emotion into his field. AN idea occurred to Wheeljack then. “What if I talked to you?”

Starscream squirmed under his attention, unwilling to meet the other mech’s optics. “It might work.”

Wheeljack started slow. I traced Starscream’s cockpit with featherlight touches, moving across the expanse of his chest to ghost fingertips over the jet’s wings. A shiver from Starscream encouraged him onward and the white mech fixed his attention on the wings. 

He watched as said wings tittered under his caresses, like they knew that he was marveling at them. They were breathtaking, really, with sharp edges and angles designed for maximum speed and precision when their owner was airborne. Wheeljack bent and kissed one, murmuring against the plating that was so rich with sensors. “So beautiful.”

Starscream, always one to preen under compliments, nudged the scientist away from the wings. “At least make it sound genuine if you’re going to talk, Wheeljack.”

Confused, Wheeljack cast a look up at Starscream’s face, but the mech wasn’t looking at him. The jet’s optics were wide and fixed on the ceiling, bottom lip pulled into his mouth. His fingers were fisted at his sides, vents clamped tight shut despite the increasing heat of his chassis. His field was tumbling around the scientist, only providing glimpses of what he was feeling. From what he could tell, Wheeljack surmised that Starscream was torn between feeling afraid and feeling aroused. The white mech knew then that it would take some convincing on his part to convince Starscream that he meant the red mech no harm.

Wheeljack moved back up Starscream’s chassis, careful not to put any of his weight on the other mech. He gently licked at one of the jet’s helm vents, tracing the tiny louvres with his glossa. That motion alone caused the seeker to abruptly buck upward, gasping through his mouth as he did. “Wheeljack-“

The ex-Wrecker continued to mouth at the vent for a few more kliks. “Yes, Lord Starscream?”

Starscream made a strangled noise and Wheeljack grinned in satisfaction. He’d clearly hit a spot on the seeker’s berth fantasy list. When Starscream pushed up on his chest, the scientist reluctantly withdrew to look down at him. 

The jet’s cheeks were ablaze with heat and his optics were the most brilliant shade of red that Wheeljack had ever seen. Starscream fumbled a little, not quite meeting Wheeljack’s gaze. “Um- could you…”

Wheeljack would never get used to a reserved Starscream.

Starscream, in loo of finishing his request, wiggled his hips. When he’d laid the jet down, Wheeljack had been conscious of not placing himself between Starscream’s legs. He wanted to give the seeker every opportunity to back out.

Wheeljack seemed to understand Starscream’s request and moved one of his legs between the seeker’s own. Starscream knew that his face had to be the most embarrassing shade due to his furious blushing. It wasn’t like he was some sealed youngling, preparing to be fragged for the first time. The heat was supposed to make him less inhibited, so why was he so…?

Before the jet could find the appropriate word to describe the way he was feeling, Wheeljack pressed his knee up against Starscream’s boiling hot panel. Releasing an undignified squeak, Starscream unabashedly ground down on the scientist’s knee. The plating on his abdomen tightened with pleasure as the seeker began to grind against the white mech.

The speedster looked down on Starscream, mesmerized by the beautiful way that the jet’s mouth hung open as he concentrated on humping his pelvic span against Wheeljack’s leg plating. The scientist bent and took a quick invent from the red mech. Like a drug, the heat coding began to circulate through Wheeljack’s system, heady and vibrant. 

Cautiously, Wheeljack moved to suck at one of the jet’s neck cables. He was surprised when Starscream tilted his helm back immediately to bare his main energon line with no hesitation. The jet’s field poked at Wheeljack’s own for reassurance. After the white mech drew each of the cables into his mouth, he released them with a soft praise. “So good, Star… Let me hear you…”

In answer, a thready whine came from Starscream’s vocalizer and his hips jerked harder, desperate for friction. The jet was absolutely searing hot by that point, but it wasn’t the heat coding, not completely. Wheeljack realized belatedly that he was actually doing a good job of revving up the jet on his own. “Gonna make you feel so good…”

A soft gasp and the sudden moist sensation trailing up his leg told Wheeljack that Starscream’s panel had retracted. The seeker turned his helm to the side, nudging the scientist with his nasal ridge until they faced each other. “Could you? Like last time?”

Oral lubricant flooded Wheeljack’s mouth. “I’d be glad to.” Without preamble, the white mech slid down the seeker’s frame, eager to sink his glossa into Starscream’s valve. 

Upon arrival to his destination, Wheeljack took a klik to take in the view. Starscream had propped himself up on his arm joints and was watching him with blatant yearning on his dark face. His legs trembled slightly from where they were bent as the seeker struggled not to get on with it and hump the ex-Wrecker’s face.

Wheeljack parted the valve folds in front of him, slipping his thumbs through the pliant lips. He ignored Starscream’s wanton keens and instead drew an invent through his mouth. Pheromones lit on his taste receptors, burning away the last of his resolve like sparks catching a building on fire. Wheeljack buried his glossa in that clenching valve, delving as deep as he could go only to retract his glossa and swirl it among the supple folds. The whole while, Starscream gave little cries from further up the berth.

Starscream’s fluids reminded Wheeljack of the finest energon treats. The mech was sweet and smooth, lavishing the scientist’s senses in a way that bordered on otherworldly. Starscream smelled and tasted like the richest of candy, like the Vosian wines whose recipes were lost long ago at the beginning of the war. Wheeljack lapped hungrily, suckling and grazing with his denta as he was serenaded by the yelps of pleasure from the red flight frame that he drank of.

“W-Wheeljack-“

A quick swipe of the ex-Wrecker’s glossa over his own lip plates. “Yes, my lord?” 

A deep moan of arousal, punctuated with shallow intakes. “-close- ahhhh-“

Instantly, Wheeljack was in Starscream’s valve again, this time with a goal in sight. Wheeljack felt the jet trying to stifle the little jerks of his hips and, taking them in his hands, the scientist encouraged the movement. He opened a comm. to the seeker. :Move, Star, show me that it feels good.:

Giving a little pause of surprise at receiving a comm., Starscream quickly responded by pressing his valve against Wheeljack’s face and rapidly gyrating his hips. Wheeljack kept his face buried in the seeker’s tightening channel as the seeker came. Despite his name, Starscream had proven that he was a relatively quiet berth partner, only making noise when it was deserved. 

With long, languid strokes of his glossa, Wheeljack guided the seeker back down from his overload. Starscream panted with his glossa poking out from between his lip plates as Wheeljack finally backed away from the overly sensitized valve lips. Even though it was swollen and irritated from the attention, Wheeljack knew that the heat would soon have Starscream ready for another round. 

With his own panel too tight for comfort, the scientist crawled up the berth to kiss at Starscream’s still slack face. The red mech looked more peaceful than Wheeljack had ever seen him as the seeker slowly came down from his sensory high. It took shear force of will for Wheeljack to keep his own panel shut at the sight of the blissed out jet.

When he finally reached a state that was closer to normal, Starscream turned on his side to nuzzle into Wheeljack’s neck cables. He allowed the barest purr to vibrate in his vocalizer as he ran his talons lightly over the scientist’s frame. “Wheeljack?”

The mech in question blinked down at the other mech. “Hmm?”

“Can I suck your spike?”

Wheeljack forced a hard reboot of his audials. He couldn’t have heard right. “What?”

Starscream spoke deliberately, like he was addressing a young sparkling. “Can I suck your spike?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

“It’s fun getting you flustered, Wheeljack. I should try it more often.”

Wheeljack didn’t reply and instead watched with rapt attention as the seeker purposely descended down the berth. Starscream roughly shoved the mustang to lay in his back as he moved down to settle between Wheeljack’s legs. 

Starscream dragged a single talon across Wheeljack’s panel. “Shy are you? Open up.”

The scientist didn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, his panel snapped open and his spike pressurized so quickly that it stung. He hissed a breath, not once taking his optics off of Starscream. Sensing Wheeljack’s full attention, the handsome red jet flashed him a fanged grin as he rubbed his cheek across the engorged spike. “Like what you see, Autobot?”

“Mmmm… you know I do.”

Still smiling, Starscream stuck the tip of his glossa into the slit on the spike’s head. Wheeljack convulsed as a wave of hot air left Starscream’s intake, bathing his array. With a touch of wicked intent in his field, the seeker abruptly took the scientist’s spike so quickly that his lips collided with Wheeljack;s spike housing at the base.

Wheeljack’s cry was broken off as Starscream swallowed repeatedly, the seeker’s throat cables squeezing around the organ. The way that he was working his throat around the spike’s head indicated a talent that one could only be born with. Starscream lifted off of the spike momentarily before bobbing back down halfway and swirling his glossa around in a spiraling motion as he did.

Starscream held Wheeljack’s gaze the entire time, blinking slowly every now and then for effect. The ex-Wrecker was completely transfixed, unable to think of anything beyond the stunning mech that was worshiping his spike. Before long, Wheeljack could feel his overload approaching.

He tried moving away, tried to pull himself from the jet’s mouth. “S-Star- I’m gonna- ooooh-“

Wheeljack was surprised by a comm. :Tell me, Wheeljack. Would you prefer my face or my mouth?:

At first, the question didn’t register, but when it did, it took everything that the scientist had not to overload then and there. “M-mouth. Less m-mess.”

Starscream bobbed his helm once more before bringing the tight ring that was his mouth back up to the spike’s head. He swiveled his helm around, dragging his lip plates in a circular motion before jamming his glossa tip into the sensitive slit.

Wheeljack came with a startled yelp as he arched his spinal strut up form the berth. Hot streams of transfluid shot down Starscream’s throat and the seeker continued to greedily suck on the spike’s head. The mustang’s entire chassis was taut with his release, a broken whine working its way from his vocalizer.

When Wheeljack’s chassis finally fell limp, the red mech carefully passed his glossa around the sensitive array once more by way of cleaning up any escaping transfluid. One look at the white mech’s face told him that he’d done a good job. Wheeljack was listless as he floated on the afterglow of his overload. Starscream made his way up the berth to lay in his speedster’s arms, helm tucked against the scientist’s chest.

It was a little while after that that Starscream felt an arm wrap around his waist. When the seeker moved to look up, he found brilliant blue optics filled with more emotion than he’d ever seen on Wheeljack’s countenance. The white mech’s arm squeezed him tightly as the own of it planted a kiss on Starscream’s forehelm. The seeker was surprised to find how pleased he was with the chaste little kisses that Wheeljack tended to bestow after intimacy. They were definitely something that Starscream could get used to.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this chapter late last night, but wasn't happy with it so I deleted it right away. Anyway, enjoy :)

As Wheeljack has suspected, the heat was rapidly returning, reclaiming any energy from the jet that Starscream had managed to regain. Though the jet began to weaken, his processor appeared to stay unclouded and clear as he stared at the scientist. Wheeljack also felt the edges of his senses beginning to dull; he knew that soon all he would want was Starscream’s valve. He was determined to beat the coding before it could take his processor.

The scientist shifted until he could move Starscream’s lithe frame underneath himself on the berth. Lazily, Wheeljack traced the seeker’s parted lip plates with his glossa. Starscream began to pant lightly against the other mech’s mouth as his anticipation rose.

The jet’s optics, glimmering red and searching, considered the mech above him. He was still nervous and he knew that he’d likely never be able to brush what had happened from back of his mind. But deep in his spark, Starscream starved desperately for the processor-numbing, vocalizer-shorting interface that he only blurrily remembered from earlier. He wanted to feel all of it with a clear processor so he would have something to remember. The jet wanted reassurance that not all heats ended in horror and violence and pain. He wanted proof that not all interfacing was a battle for dominance or for duty.

Somehow, Wheeljack must’ve known his inner thoughts. The next moment, Starscream was arching upward as the ex-Wrecker sank his index digit into the jet’s slick valve. The jet trembled as that fingertip, only to the first knuckle, alternated massaging his anterior node and dipping into his wet heat. As he slowly worked open Starscream’s willing valve, Wheeljack lavished attention on the seeker’s wings, licking them and kissing them without any real pattern.

The unpredictability of Wheeljack’s movements drove the jet wild, causing the wires and mechanisms in Starscream’s limbs to seize up with pleasure. He no longer held the sounds back, moaning wantonly as the scientist continued his ministrations. “Oh, Wheeljack.”

The speedster lost himself as he concentrated on mapping out the seeker’s body, taking mental notes as to where his touches earned the best sounds as he lathered Starcsream with attention. Wheeljack was thorough, drawing sparks and pulses of electricity as he traversed the jet’s wings, his belly, his helm vents, everywhere that the scientist could think of to reach.

When he added another finger into Starscream’s tight valve, the seeker was reduced to a panting mess as he struggled to draw the room’s cooler air into his frame. Wheeljack dared a bite on one of the wingtips. The sound that broken from the jet’s mouth was the loudest that he’d given yet, a trilling keen that reverberated through the scientist’s audials. Wheeljack swept away the mild sting of his bite with a sloppy kiss and he was treated to another wavering moan from Starscream. “Oh, Star, you’re doin’ so good… so beautiful-”

“S-shut up, ‘m not- ahhh!”

“I mean it, every word.” Wheeljack kissed down Starscream’s chassis, painting swirls of lubricant across the glossy scarlet plating as he went. “You’re strong. You’re smart. Primus, who else could do what you’ve done? Not many bots have the gears to rule the world.”

Starscream moaned long and low as a small overload tore through his lines. He’d never had a thing for berth talk, especially if it wasn’t dirty. He himself seemed to be talented in that area, always managing to fire up his trine. But somehow, Wheeljack’s praises had been enough to draw him into a mini-overload.

Wheeljack watched as the seeker’s optics flashed white briefly before dimming back to crimson. Feeling with his fingers, he found that he could easily slide in a third finger and he used his thumb to gently caress the swollen, irritated anterior node. Using his other hand to pet the seeker’s side, Wheeljack continued to lavish the seeker with attention as he eased Starscream down from his second overload of the night.

Once a little more aware, Starscream lifted wobbly arms to pull the scientist down into a kiss. The heat code, as if impatient, was finally starting to overtake his rational thought processes. The seeker wanted Wheeljack before that happened. “Wheeljack?”

Starscream was surprised to find the ex-Wrecker panting as well, fans on full blast. In answer, the white mech grunted as he continued to press kisses across the seeker’s face. Starscream wiggled his face away and mouthed at Wheeljack helm fin. “I want you to do it now. While we can feel it. I… I want to feel it.”

The mustang froze at Starscream’s honest request, taken back at the sincerity in the jet’s field. He pulled back so his sapphire optics could look into Starscream’s ruby ones. Wheeljack didn’t say anything as he searched the red mech’s depths, trying to find some fraction of hesitation or fear. But Starscream didn’t appear to be anything but nervously excited, his field flaring vividly to play with Wheeljack’s own.

Wheeljack pulled his fingers from the loosened valve as he hovered over the jet and lined up his spike. He felt it as Starscream look a breath and held it, bracing for the intrusion of the large spike.

Wheeljack felt around the berth until he found Starscream’s hand, clenched into a fist at the seeker’s side. He took the hand and moved it up to rest beside the seeker’s helm where he patiently worked Starscream’s fist open. Once he had, Wheeljack threaded his own fingers through the red mech’s. The smaller fingers latched onto Wheeljack’s with a death grip, tightening to the point of pain. 

The speedster directed a soft gust of air over Starscream’s vents and watched the tiny louvres flex under the stimulation. “Relax, Starscream. I know none of this has been easy for you.”

As Wheeljack expected, the jet scoffed. “Shut up and get in me. Before I change my mind.”

The ex-Wrecker pressed his spike in the seeker’s dripping folds, slow enough so that Starscream could feel every one of the spike’s ridges as they pushed open the calipers. Wheeljack took his time, continuing to murmur into the jet’s audial. “Oh, it’s so good, Star, feels to nice-”

Starscream stiffened momentarily before forcing himself to relax. Wheeljack’s spike eased into his valve as the scientist gave shallow rolls of his hips, pushing in and pulling out at a slow pace. The jet wrapped his heeled peds around Wheeljack’s waist until he could cross his legs at the ankle over the other mech’s aft. Wheeljack sighed softly when his spike housing finally tapped against Starscream’s outer valve folds. Both mech’s moaned into the other’s audial at the sensation as they were joined together completely.

Then, Wheeljack began to move. Quick little snaps of his hips, punctuated by an endless stream of sweet nothings to the mech he rutted into. Starscream, unable to speak as he was repeatedly filled, focused his energy on returning pleasure to the scientist in every way that his hazy processor could think of. He dragged his talons through Wheeljack’s transformation seams, plucking at sensitive wires that were inaccessible by blunted fingertips. The seeker nipped at the white mech’s brightly flashing helm fins as he simultaneously urged on Wheeljack’s hips, pressing his heels into the other’s aft and upper thighs.

“Star- I- I- oooh~“

Starscream began returning the scientist’s movements, lifting his hips to meet Wheeljack’s with every delicious slide of the spike buried in the seeker’s valve. The jet rocked his slender body upward and allowed the gentle clinking of their plating knocking together to fill his processor. He felt dizzy and relaxed his grip on Wheeljack’s hand as he allowed himself to be held.

Wheeljack felt the mech under him give over to his care. He shifted the hand not holding the jet’s and cradled the seeker’s helm in his palm. Starscream turned his cheek into the touch, gasping every time the heavy member moved within him. “ _’Jack _\- mmm~”__

__The white mech felt the head of his spike butting up against the jet’s gestation tank. Starscream’s legs tightened and he released a groan of mixed discomfort and desire. Sensing the red mech’s unease, Wheeljack paused his movement. “Star,” he whispered, “you okay?”_ _

__The seeker in question squirmed and sucked in more air as the spike brushed against his innermost nodes. “Just- um-“_ _

__Wheeljack started to pull away and Starscream grabbed at the scientist with his free hand. The mustang paused to look down at him. “If this is uncomfortable for you, then we don’t have to do it.” Starscream averted his gaze and murmured. “What?”_ _

__“That’s why I want to.”_ _

__Wheeljack allowed the confusion to leak into his field. “Sorry, Star, I don’t-“_ _

__The seeker glared up at him then. “Don’t you get it, Wheeljack? I want to do this because I know you’d never make me. It’s… It’s safe. With you.”_ _

__Not wanting to push his luck but also needing to know, Wheeljack pressed. “You want to do what, Starscream? I want to hear you say it.”_ _

__“You know what-“_ _

__“I want to hear it from you.”_ _

__The jet’s voice shook as he spoke. “I… I want to interface with you. I want you to, um… to make love to me. Happy now?”_ _

__Emotions threatened to choke Wheeljack and he quickly forced his vocalizer to clear of static. “I’m glad you’ve given me this chance with you.”_ _

__“Just get on with it.”_ _

__There was pause between them, only broken by the dually felt twitching of Wheeljack’s impatient spike. He suppressed a moan and Starscream caught him off guard with a kiss to the tip of the scientist’s nasal ridge. The jet suddenly looked sleepy. “It stings when you first tear the chamber wall.”_ _

__Wheeljack brushed his thumb digit across the seeker’s vents and watched the louvres quiver. “I’m sorry-“_ _

__“Stop apologizing and do it, frag you.”_ _

__Wheeljack couldn’t stop himself or the smirk that crossed his face. “I think you’ve got that backwards.”_ _

__As Starscream opened his mouth to retort, Wheeljack thrust his hips forward hard. A strangled squeak sounded from the jet and he blinked rapidly, clinging tightly to the scientist. Wheeljack felt the gel wall give way and he soothed the shaking Starscream. The white mech didn’t move, waiting until the brief pain dissipated from the other’s field. “You’re doing so good, Star, _so perfect _-“___ _

____“Wheeljack, _please- _“___ _ _ _

______Wheeljack didn’t hold back. The scientist pistoned into his lover beneath him, relishing in the sounds he drew from Starscream. Wheeljack lifted himself until he could meet the jet’s gaze as the ex-Wrecker hopelessly surrendered what was left of his waning control. Similarly, Starscream was beginning to bounce as the pace increased, his armor shaking on his frame as he grew limp in Wheeljack’s arms. “Yes- yes- _aah! _”___ _ _ _ _ _

________Wheeljack felt his transfluid chamber beginning to tighten as he pounded into the red mech’s pliant valve. He lowered his helm to kiss Starscream, hungering to be close in such a way as they grew closer to the crest together. The seeker blindly rooted for his mouth, claiming the severely scared plating as if Wheeljack were a rare and precious thing to be cherished. The scientist felt his spark swell in his chassis and it took every bit of his self-control to keep his chest plates closed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Starscream felt protected. He felt safe and he knew that what had happened to him would never happen again. The jet held his lover down against his own chest and watched as Wheeljack’s optics flashed brilliant white._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________In that moment, as Wheeljack kissed all over his face and the scientist spilled transfluid into his gestation chamber, Starscream allowed his own overload to take him. The hot spirts of transfluid coated the walls of his valve and Starscream felt it as the last of the heat coding was satisfied. He cried out against the other mech’s destroyed mouth and the seeker allowed his wings to dance as he rejoiced privately, free of the fear of being ripped apart or overpowered. The mustang clutched onto him like Starscream was the only bot in existence as ecstasy overtook them both._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	17. Chapter 17

Starscream woke slowly, his senses dampened as he floated between wakefulness and recharge. He sighed softly, exventing quietly as he struggled against the disoriented feeling that always followed a heat cycle. The jet wiggled his body briefly without opening his optics, finding that he was being held.

Starscream had only ever been held down.

An unhappy whimper escaped the seeker before a calmness fell over him. Nosing around, he buried his face in the first warm area he could find, almost as if he were trying to hide. An inhale through his mouth told Starscream by smell that he’d burrowed himself straight into the arms of another mech.

Starscream fought to escape at first, finding himself still weak from his body’s repair system as it worked to fix wire damage and heat exhaustion. “Shhh, Star. You’re okay.”

The red mech recognized the voice that came from the mech pressed him and relaxed. The voice didn’t belong to anyone from his trine and it certainly wasn’t Megatron. Warm and content, Starscream snuggled into the embrace he was given and allowed himself to fall back into a light recharge.

Above him, Wheeljack grinned as he petted the twitching wings on Starscream’s back. The scientist felt it as the jet purred against his neck cables and curled into Wheeljack’s side, resembling some kind of Earth-cat. 

Wheeljack’s comm. alerted him that Windblade was trying to contact him. The white speedster kept his gaze on the still seeker as he answered. :Hey, Windblade.:

:Hey, how’s it going?:

:He’s over his heat, I think. Rechargin’ now. How’re things out there?:

Windblade’s amusement was obvious. :Well, no one is dead so pretty good I guess. Bots are starting to wonder though. Even Chromia asked how he was doing. Don’t tell him she asked.:

Wheeljack chuckled softly, careful not to wake the red mech. :Primus forbid that. She’d never hear the end of it from ‘im.:

:Yeah.: A long pause. :Wheeljack?:

:Hm?:

:What now? This changes some things for you two.:

Absently, the scientist’s stroked the louvre’s on Starscream’s vents. The jet’s nose scrunched against Wheeljack’s neck followed by a sleepy, half-awake lick to the white mech’s neck cables. Soon enough, the seeker was pulling back and focusing blurry red optics on Wheeljack. The tiny smile on Starscream’s mouth was returned by the scientist.

:I don’t really know yet, Windblade. A lot has changed, but I think that’s completely up to him.:

The scientist was sure to say his answering comm. aloud so that Starscream could hear who he was talking to. The jet cocked his helm to the side, regarding his berthmate with a quickly clearing processor. Wheeljack continued to watch him as the sleek red frame crawled further over him until the scientist was forced to tilt his himself back in order to look up at Starscream. With a quirk of his optic ridges, the jet bent forward until his lips brushed against Wheeljack’s glowing helm fin. “Put it on speaker,” he murmured. 

Quickly, Wheeljack complied, slightly worried by the wicked look on Starscream’s face. “Sorry to interrupt, _Windblade _, but your precious Wheeljack is about to get very busy. I intend to show him exactly how much things have changed between us.”__

__Windblade stuttered momentarily. “S-Starscream? How did you- what are you-“_ _

__“Uh uh uh. Last chance to cut the comm.”_ _

__“But-“_ _

__Starscream dipped his helm and bit down on one of Wheeljack’s exposed neck cables. The scientist’s optics flew wide and a deep groan erupted unbidden from his vocalizer. Embarrassment colored his field and a second later a gasp echoed through the open comm. link. The noise was followed by an abrupt click as it was closed from the other end._ _

__Wheeljack cast a half-sparked glare up at Starscream. “Rude.”_ _

__Seemingly unconcerned, the jet suckled on the cable he’d just bitten, soothing away the sting. “She wouldn’t have left us alone otherwise and you know it. Don’t act mad.”_ _

__Wheeljack fought to keep control as fresh lust filled him. “So, you said you were going to show me something?”_ _

__The scientist suppressed a gulp as Starscream lowered his boiling hot panel down to rub against his berthmate’s. “Ah, yes. About that.” The seeker dragged a talon across Wheeljack’s helm fin and watched it flash._ _

__Wheeljack was taken back when a shot of hesitation moved through Starscream’s field. In response, the scientist turned his face to pull one of Starscream’s talon-tipped fingers into his mouth. He laved his glossa along it, never taking his attention off of the startled seeker whose mouth had fallen open slightly. Wheeljack released the digit with an audible pop before he spoke. “We can talk about all this more later if you want. I’m good with this right now.”_ _

__Relief washed through the seeker’s field as a smile graced his mouth. Primus, he was beautiful. Wheeljack licked at the talon in front of him before feeling himself pulled into a hungry, desperate kiss._ _

__When the seeker pulled back as if to move away, Wheeljack followed for a moment, cradling the sides of Starscream’s helm in his hands. Red met blue and fields intertwined. Wheeljack spoke quietly. “What are we?”_ _

__“I don’t know, we can decide later. Right now, I want you.”_ _

__Starscream found himself flipped to lay under Wheeljack, pressed into the berth in the most delicious way. He soon found himself surrounded by gentle touches and  
caresses, completely consumed on all sides by the mech above him. Wheeljack was all around the seeker and Starscream wasn’t angry or embarrassed. The seeker moaned and moved without inhibition. He experienced without feeling the need to perform for his lover. Deep down, he prayed it wouldn’t be the last time, something that he had never hoped for with other partners. Starscream knew that he was safe and that the caring touches from the scientist weren’t a lie or a show of power. _ _

__Starscream trusted Wheeljack and, as his overload cleansed the last doubts from him, the seeker knew in his spark that he never had to be afraid again._ _


End file.
